


One by One

by Lightningbender



Series: The Unity Series [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Lostia, Polyamory, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5717029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightningbender/pseuds/Lightningbender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa meets Costia. Shenanigans will ensue, as happens when you put a sixteen yr old in charge of a belligerent society</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Night

Lexa sat stiffly at the center of a long table. Anya, to her right, leaned away from her in conversation with her neighbor. Gustus, to her left, seemed to be racing his warrior brothers through the better part of a deer's hind legs. Overall, the sixteen-year-old was not enjoying the feast as much as she knew she could have been. She chewed slowly. Letting her jaw clench methodically helped her think. Despite a lack of hunger, she continued to bring greasy strips of meat and spoonfuls of soft yams to her mouth.

Lexa gazed down the length of the table in one direction and then the other, considering the leaders who had gathered here - whom she had gathered here. She choked the flare of pride that rose in her chest at that thought.

The four clans who were not attending the feast weighed on her mind and made quick work of that flare.

Beyond the heads of those seated across from her (Luna kom Floukru, Indra kom Trikru, and a young warrior named Tristan) she watched her army dance off the stress of another clash with the Mountain. Tomorrow they would send their fallen brothers and sisters to the sky in flames. Tonight they celebrated for them. The whoops and hollers and off-key singing of the survivors of an uncertain day filled the enormous tent. A group of the army's drummers - the youngest in the room at seven or eight years - stood in a swaying, stomping circle around the fire at the center of the crowd and banged out a syncopated rhythm on their normally pragmatic instruments. The space was full of music and drink and heat and heartbeats and life. Lexa looked over them all coolly.

A young warrior covered in tattoos that marked her as Floundkru stepped out of the dancing crowd and laid a hand on Luna's shoulder. Lexa watched the exchange out of curiosity. The other clans, while culturally similar, had distinctions that she needed to learn in order to call herself their Heda. This young warrior, for example, greeted Luna with a familiarity that no member of the Trikru would ever approach Lexa with. The girl leaned in enough to speak softly so only Luna could hear. When Luna nodded in acknowledgement, the girl stepped back. She looked up and met Lexa's eyes as Luna turned to speak to Lexa.

"Heda, my warriors are curious to know how the Commander of Eight Clans will commemorate victories." Luna's eyes sparkled with amusement and maybe also a touch of the ale she'd been nursing. "Forgive me if Trikru customs are different, but in the East we have a tradition after battles..."

Lexa's face remained impassive. She glanced briefly at the warrior who stood waiting for an answer to the question Lexa was sure she had prompted, and back to Luna, before shifting in her seat to lean forward. "Tell me about your tradition."

"In our clan, we recount the battle won in song or poetry. It's usually quite a show, although I admit I've only ever been a spectator. The most creative of our warriors are chosen to tell the story of the battle, and it grows into epic improvisation." Luna paused, as if remembering. “Sometimes it is more… eloquent than other times. The purpose depends immensely on the events of the day, so the stories are either respectfully put together to commemorate the sacrifices we’ve made, or just thrown together to make us laugh. There is merit in laughter, don’t you think, Heda?” she added at Lexa’s subtly skeptical expression.

“It is important to give the people something to live for, yes.”

Luna looked at her appraisingly for a moment. “It is important to have something to live for.” She paused. “If I may, Heda. Leader to leader. It is impossible to inspire others when you struggle to inspire yourself.”

Lexa was aware of a shift around her. The Floukru warrior was no longer waiting on her for an answer but watching Luna with humble eyes. Anya had paused her conversation and was pretending to study her drink. Gustus had slowed his devastation of the deer carcass and was slowly setting a piece of bone down on his plate, as if deciding whether anyone needed a reminder that despite his reputation for fairness and reason, most things could be transformed into lethal weapons in his hands.

The noise in the room continued. Beyond the small circle at the center of the table, drums beat on, the crowd danced, and seated leaders chewed and talked and laughed. But within it, Lexa had a choice.

“Tread carefully, Luna,” she warned, wishing not for the first time that she could have more of these inter-clan conversations without being surrounded by people who felt the need to protect her. “But continue.”

“When I was a child I loved to hear stories. These things are common for us, as perhaps they are for you. Mothers and fathers set their children to sleep with legends - heroes to look up to. These are things to live for, to dream, to become. Those legends turn into horror stories told around tiny fires. Fear reminds us of our instinct to live. And jokes pass the time while we work. Joy soothes us and becomes the place we wish to always return to.”

Lexa nodded. “Do we not experience all those things in reality?”

“Speaking only for myself, reality is often disappointing.” Luna waited for Lexa to respond, but she seemed content to digest the thought. “Disappointing... or at least, uncontrollable.” Lexa blinked slowly and broke eye contact. “My point, really, is that the thing I live for is not the way I survive, and as a leader-” (Anya shifted warningly) “-I have found it incredibly important to know what I live for, so that I can inspire others to do what is necessary to survive.”

Lexa gazed across the sloped ceiling of the ceiling of the tent as Luna finished. She felt Anya relax slightly as she considered whether she needed to respond. This distinction between life and survival was useful, she decided. Luna was a thoughtful and wise leader. What she lacked in tactical skill she made up for in sheer humanity. It wasn’t something that Trikru were accustomed to teaching in children, this reliance on mutual connection. It wasn’t something that Lexa had experienced in another person she could immediately think of. It intrigued her.

“Surely storytelling is not a reason to live for every person in your clan?”

“Of course not. To each his own reason.”

From a very young age Lexa’s entire existence had been learning or doing war. Victory had been linked so thoroughly in her training and in her culture to the greatest reward that she didn’t frequently look elsewhere for satisfaction. But satisfaction found her occasionally in old books of science and history, the diagrams and charts pulling her into knowledge that expanded her understanding, and sometimes (in moments that she tried to deny herself for the feeling of weakness into which they dissolved) she wondered whether she could have made a life from those books if she hadn’t been called to lead so early. 

She had been called, so it didn’t matter.

Because the Trikru were constantly at war, war had to be means and also reason for Trikru warriors. Victory had to be reason enough to keep fighting. The adrenaline of battle and the thrill of dominance were their motivation. It was easy, coming from where Lexa came from, to dismiss everything else. It would have been easy to accept what she was taught and to lead as her people expected her to, to lead them through endless wars with neighboring clans and cycles of mutual destruction. That would have been the path of least resistance, especially for a queen called as young as Lexa had been. But Lexa had been given a seed of an idea before she had been called - quite accidentally, as these things happen sometimes - and it consumed her when she was given the opportunity to make that idea into a reality. So for the sake of her half-formed idea, she resisted the expected.

Every day in pursuit of this idea she felt younger and younger. Everything she learned seemed only to lead to more questions. Every clan leader she met with could have proved her a fool over and over if she tried to pretend superiority. And on these days, when she had to navigate a meeting with a new culture, she learned exponentially - mostly how much she had still to learn.

It made sense, in a way, that physical combat was her comfort. Some days she felt it was the only thing she excelled at.

She hoped that perhaps one of these clans had the secret to fighting the greatest enemy: the one in the mountain. In any case, it would make them stronger to have one enemy than be surrounded by enemies. Lexa knew that there was something hypocritical about her wish to finish their struggle with the mountain. When Anya or Gustus asked her explain her reasoning beyond the defeat of the Mountain, she could not describe any vision for them. What happens after war, if not another war to fill the void? Even during brief times of peace throughout Trikru history, fights broke out due to apparently boredom. Aggression (and its sister, defensiveness) was sown into their cultural and personal being. Basically, when pushed to explain with any definitiveness, Lexa could never say whether the ultimate purpose of the coalition was to continue war indefinitely or to attempt to end it completely. The fact that her purpose was undetermined even in her own mind had actually helped her convince each clan leader that joining the coalition was the right option for them. The possible outcomes were numerous, and at least one of them was likely attractive to every leader.

“Is this a popular idea, in the Floukru, that each person’s means of survival are not linked to their reason for it?” 

“Unfortunately in trying times it does happen that way, yes.”

Lexa didn’t completely understand the answer. In trying times - times of war? All times were wartimes, it was the state of life. She felt small or naïve. She felt young. She didn’t like the feeling, and began to doubt that the amusement in Luna’s eyes was not as benevolent as her initial instinct had determined. It’s hard to tell when one is being made fun of, Lexa knew, with an age difference of at least ten summers and the walls cultural difference build. Anya and Gustus had relaxed, so surely she wasn’t being tricked? Lexa considered that the safest way to continue the conversation was to shift focus and save herself from possibly looking like a fool. 

She looked to the warrior who had stood listening behind her leader through the interchange. “And you, warrior. Do your means of survival and your reason for it match?”

“For me, sometimes they do, Heda. Sometimes they don’t.”

“When do they?”

“In times of peace, I teach the children in my village to read and write. That is a reason. And when the seeds of our crops first push up through the soil that tries to protect them from the light - I find that beautiful, and I think beauty is a reason.”

Lexa sat still as stone, watching the girl as she finished speaking, watching her lips close slowly as she decided she had answered the question completely. Lexa had to close her eyes. Eyes still closed, she asked, “And when don’t they?”

The girl didn’t answer immediately. Accustomed to prompt responses, Lexa opened her eyes. The girl’s steady, calm gaze had been broken. She was studying the plate at Lexa’s place and her brow furrowed. “Well. Also in times of peace, I feel anxious for… I’m sorry, Heda, I can’t find the word. The repetition of days and nights becomes unsatisfying to me, though. Cyclical. Robotic. I find I can’t find beauty in things that I previously could.” She looked at Lexa again, and this time Lexa found the strength to hold her gaze with an unaffected expression. Mostly.

“What is your name?”

“It is Costia, Heda.”

“Thank you for your frank answers, Costia.” The girl nodded. Lexa looked at Luna, who had been pushing her food around her plate, half-listening to the exchange as if she’d heard Costia’s answers before. “Luna, what would it take to make this… commemoration?... of our next battle?”

Luna’s mouth quirked into a slightly surprised smile. “Only to announce to my warriors that it will be, Heda. The ones who will want to perform will do the rest. It is for their own pleasure.”

“Do so.”

\---

Lexa knew better than to let her drink control her night. She'd learned about that long ago. But she also knew that an intentional loss of some control could allow truth to shine in a way it could not in the blinding light of sober days. So after Costia bowed and returned to the crowd to let her superiors continue what would quickly become an irrelevant conversation about the advantages of leading by force or reward, she kept an eye on the young warrior’s path through the dancing crowd, waiting for her head to figure out why her heart felt compelled to have her in her sight.

After a while (meals were being finished, people began leaning back in their seats, some of the younger warriors - mostly Trikru boys - had left the dance floor swiftly to be sick outside, and either returned or not) the conversation with Luna slowed comfortably until they sat together in amicable silence. Lexa continued to watch Costia interact with a very young Trikru boy who had become fascinated with the patterns of her tattoos, and she laughed at him kindly and began to point out the parts of the pattern that determined their meanings to him, and Lexa wanted very much to be able to hear what she was telling him. It became clear that her heart was beginning down a dangerous path.

When Costia glanced up from her conversation with the boy as if she’d felt Lexa’s eyes on her, and Lexa looked away so quickly that she knew there was no way she hadn’t been caught, she worried that a better metaphor for her heart’s current position was the top of an avalanche, or the beginning of a mudslide, or a boat when it’s being pulled into a faster, rockier part of the river than you can navigate.

By the time Lexa’s curiosity overcame her fear of being caught looking again, Costia was walking away from the boy and (to Lexa’s horror) towards her. Internally panicking, Lexa tried to think of something to say - before remembering that a warrior of such low status would never just walk up and address her uninvited. But then why-

Costia approached Luna and spoke quietly into her ear. Of course, Lexa, berated herself. Costia would have plenty of reasons to talk to her queen. Perhaps she had a unique position. She wasn’t Luna’s personal guard; Lexa knew those two - Ambost and Cal, young reliable warriors. Costia could be many things, but before tonight she hadn’t been any closer to Luna than all the rest of the Floukru army.

Luna nodded and Costia walked away. Luna leaned forward and looked conspiringly up at Lexa.

“I have to turn in for the night, Heda.” Luna paused with her mouth open, as if deciding how to say what she wanted to say next. “If I may be frank: talking with you tonight has soothed many of the doubts I had about this coalition. I’m very much looking forward to fighting beside you tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow… perhaps someday we will be free to do more than fight, eh?”

“Perhaps.”

Luna smiled and nodded, and stood to leave. “Goodnight, Heda.”

“Until the sun, Luna.”

Lexa watched her cross the large space and join Costia who had waited for her at the entrance to the tent. Costia acknowledged Luna, then, Lexa thought, definitely didn’t imagine, she looked across the tent at Lexa before turning to walk out beside her queen.

She suddenly felt like she’d drunk too much too fast. She leaned in and spoke quietly to Anya.

“Anya. Would it be improper for me to leave?”

Anya scanned the raucous room. “No, but you may want to do it discreetly.”

\---

Outside the glowing, vibrating tent at the center of their camp, Anya walked with Lexa to her sleeping quarters. Her guard, Ryken, was likely already there. As they walked, Lexa tried to rewind her mind to before Luna’s exit.

“What did you think of the Floukru Queen?”

Anya had watch Lexa warm to the woman and knew that her direct answer would fall on deaf ears, but gave it anyway to protest the indirectness of the question. “I think she relies on tools that do not guarantee her success, but somehow she has made her life.” She was met with expected cold silence. “Lexa. You are a person who decides how you feel about a person within moments of meeting them. You don’t ask me what I think of this woman to refine your opinion. What are you asking me?”

“I wonder if all the Floukru are like that.”

“Possibly. They see less war than we do.”

Lexa was quiet after that. When they arrived at Lexa’s tent, Anya entered first and turned to face her. She put a finger beneath Lexa’s chin. In any other company the motion would have been apprehensible, but alone they were only themselves, and Anya could read the worry hidden beneath Lexa’s calm expression. “You began to unite the clans for the good of the Trikru, Lexa, but I assure you, your goal is greater now.” Lexa met her eyes but said nothing. “I see the way you attend to all eight clans, the way you learn their customs, their traditions, their language, even…” She paused to mutter something about the strangeness of the Ayelkru. “If you think you brought eight clans together for anything other than the good of them all, you need to remember how it was before. You need to remember. War may not have touched the Floukru much lately, but it has and it would again.” Lexa finally dropped her gaze to the ground, unable to deny the truth of the last statement.

Anya’s mouth tightened into an apologetic smile. She squeezed her shoulder goodnight and left her to her thoughts. Lexa watched the tent flaps fall closed behind her former mentor, and considered that she might never be done needing her advice.


	2. Second Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa tries to have a normal conversation with her crush. At a mass funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have 15 chapters vaguely planned out for this. I planned them before season 3 started. I tried to stay within canon up to that point but I know the show is going to expand how much is canon about the grounders so, probably there will be divergences.

The sun was sinking quickly below the trees that surrounded the large camp. Lexa longed to watch it set, but was stuck inside a war tent with seven of the clan leaders, with a general or two behind each of them (Anya and Indra on either side of herself), who seemed unable to refrain from eye-roll-inducing behavior for more than five minutes. She used the time to practice keeping a straight face.

The building of funeral pyres was well underway. She had passed the site earlier in the day on her way to the war tent with Ryken at her side. 

_ Luna and the other four clan leaders who were part of her current move against the Mountain would meet her there soon, but she liked to have time to gather her thoughts before she had to present battle plans. Luna joined her first, earlier than Lexa would have liked. She treasured solitude. Better Luna than any of the others, though. _

_ “Good morning, Heda.” Luna strode in confidently, nodding to Ryken who stood at the entrance. She dragged a hand through her hair. “I hope you’re not feeling last night as much as I am.” Lexa allowed the corner of her mouth to twitch into what constituted a smile. “I think you get about five years without repercussions and then…” She shrugged and let Lexa imagine the future she was experiencing. Raleg, leader of the Hill People, walked in and took a place at the table. Sumter of the Southlands followed him, paused at the door, and spoke as he crossed to join the others. _

_ “This is a lovely morning to spend inside discussing your monsters from the mountain.” _

_ “Ours,” Luna spoke up. “We are all the same to the Mountain Men, Sumter, it does not help us to draw distinction when they pick us off with none.” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, and stood across from her at the table. The River Queen and a pair of generals from the Swamp Clan entered together as Luna and Sumter exchanged almost playfully competitive eye contact. _

_ Lexa nodded to them all as they settled at the table and looked to her. “Our mission tomorrow is to regain as many of Reapers as possible, with as few casualties as we can manage. We can avoid the acid fog in these places-” she pointed to multiple green symbols on the map that marked a mix of found and recently built airtight shelters. “Thanks to our efforts over the last few weeks there are almost twice as many as there were before. We can move quickly between these safe houses and feign an attack near the dam, where they consistently use the Reapers to attack. We work in teams of five, and each team’s goal is to capture one Reaper.” _

_ Possible failings in the plan were discussed, clarifications were made, and the armies were divided into front, rear and flanking sections. Generals of the armies would divide their own warriors into teams, but a limited number could fit in the safehouses through any of the possible routes.  _

_ Lexa’s patience has begun to wane as the morning hours dragged on. The plan was essentially set. Sumter and Raleg began arguing half-heartedly about the origin of the material the fog shelters were made of - both claiming that their clans had created the coating that made fabric impermeable. Luna yawned. Lexa struggled not to imitate her. She paced around the room, uninterested in the meandering conversation that no longer had anything to do with the next day’s planning. The relationship between the clans from the south was competitive, but they were fiercely loyal to each other against outsiders. It was as if they claimed rights over being at war with each other. Lexa’s first attempts to form a coalition were with Sumter and Raleg two years ago. Before she was called to lead, they had allied together to defend themselves against the Trikru. Lexa couldn’t deny the effect it had on her, and her argument for them to begin the coalition with her was full of indirect flattery. The hardest thing to convince them of was not to war with each other. _

_ But right now, Lexa didn’t need to hear more of their squabbling. _

_ She let her mind wander. She watched Luna, who was practically falling asleep, sitting on a stool and leaning against one of the tent’s structural posts. Innumerable moments over the past three weeks had made Lexa appreciate Luna’s amicable nature. Her disarming charm and confidence put people at ease, which made her crucial to the de-escalation of tension while the eight clans of coalition had gathered to gain any information they could about the Mountain Men. As much as Lexa didn’t like to rely on someone she had met so recently, she couldn’t deny Luna’s usefulness. Her interaction with Costia the previous night was the first thing that had struck Lexa as questionable. The Floukru were under Lexa’s protection, and while Luna directly oversaw them, she had discovered some unnerving traditions of power in pockets of the other clans that she now searched for as each clan joined the coalition. Conquered or captured groups of warriors were entered into a type of prison that was considered punishment or repayment to society, but in Lexa’s eyes was forced servituse. She had also come across conquered children being entered into service that they allegedly could work their way out of, but the free adult versions of these children were nowhere to be found. Plenty of grown-up runaway or misbehaving child servants ended up in the prisons, though, and plenty continued their life indefinitely in servitude. It wasn’t something the Trikru permitted. Trikru ways may have been harsh on life, but not freedom. If a person deserved their life they deserved the freedom to live that life. _

_ Lexa also had heard of (but had yet to encounter) the leaders from the Northern clans allegedly taking young warriors as sexual partners. The allegations varied wildly, challenging their reliability, but they were serious enough to make Lexa nervous about meeting the four northern leaders and possibly confronting traditions that offended southern ideals. _

_ Lexa considered all these things and then rewound her train of thought to Luna yawning on the opposite side of the war tent. None of her worries seemed to feasibly apply to the Floukru. Lexa couldn't find an explanation for why she felt threatened by Luna's relationship with a single one of her warriors.  _

_ A horn sounded at the edge of camp, signaling a change in the watch. _

_ “Let’s continue later with our generals,” Lexa said in dismissal. _

Hours later, Lexa sat at the head of the same table, twice as full, waiting impatiently for the evening horn to call sounded at the edge of camp, calling the people to gather for the mass funeral.

When it finally rang out across the camp, Lexa thanked the leaders who had gathered and watched them file out. After the last one left, and Ryken stood expectantly at the other end of the room waiting to walk her to her tent. She didn't move, standing leaning against the table, and continued to stare at the entrance to the war tent that Indra had just disappeared through.

“Ryken. Bring Luna back here.” The young man nodded and went quickly. Lexa crossed to her throne and sat forward leaning on one elbow. Her knee bounced impatiently. Ryken reentered a minute later behind Luna. Lexa stood but didn't move from her throne.

“Heda. What do you need?”

“A question answered.”

“What's the question?”

“Do the Flounkru have labor prisons or child servants?”

Luna’s eyes grew dark. “No. And I can't imagine what might have given you that impression.”

“Costia left with you last night. As if she were attending you. As if she couldn't leave without you.”

“Costia is free to go where she wishes. I cannot dictate her days or nights any more than I can control any of my people.”

“If I assume anything else, it will not reflect well on your clan and therefore on me, Luna. I still have to convince four clan leaders that this coalition is not going to implode at any moment. If there is any type of improper coercion happening here, I will put an end to it.” Lexa tried to stare her down, worried what the unsatisfying answer might mean. “Is there?”

“I do not coerce Costia any more than my position allows. Even when she resists my advice petulantly.”

“Your indirectness is trying my patience, Luna.”

“If you want a direct answer, ask a direct question.”

Lexa held eye contact for what felt like too long. Luna wasn’t relenting. This woman had a stronger will than any other of the clans’ leaders Lexa had dealt with, or she had found Lexa’s weaknesses and was not afraid to extort them. It was a very good thing that she was not a political threat. Lexa considered suddenly that her ability to be a political threat was enough reason to kill her, despite the incredibly low likelihood of Luna acting on that ability. It would not be good for the coalition, though, if the leader of the most recently joined clan was suddenly dead. Also, Lexa was developing a strange relationship with the woman whom she didn’t know how to describe to anyone.

“What is your relationship with Costia?”

“She is my niece, and she was my second.” Lexa’s mouth hung open slightly. Luna squinted at her appraisingly. “What is your interest in Costia?”

“My interest is in the Floukru people, who I now consider my own.” Luna raised an eyebrow.

“You should know then that among the ‘Floukru people,’” Luna bit the words short in imitation of Lexa’s cadence, “she is well loved.”

Luna searched Lexa’s eyes briefly, then turned and exited the tent. Lexa should definitely have this woman killed. 

She stewed for a minute before composing herself and moving to her own tent to dress for the funeral. Ryken followed quietly, and after ensuring that the tent was empty of threats, left to watch the door. He knew better than to hover when his usually even-tempered commander had been pushed. As soon as he left, she shed her mask again. Her cape dropped to the floor in a crumpled pile. She shuffled over to her bed and fell face forward onto it.

Part of her continued to lie to herself. She was concerned about the eighth clan that she had made her own. She cared very much about any possible cultural conflicts that may arise between them and any other parts of coalition. Developing relationships with the people of each clan was how she learned to lead them well and ensured their loyalty through times that were less abundant than these. Luna had no right to question her curiosity about any person, even if that person was her family. Lexa’s sharp attitude in response was justifiable, even necessary.

Another voice that was seeping overwhelmingly through all of her thought was reminding her of her reaction to meeting Costia’s eyes across the tent last night.

“I don't think I've seen you so undignified in years, Lex.”

Lexa started at the sound but she recognized Anya's voice without turning around. “First of all, get up. Secondly, what's wrong?”

Anya helped Lexa pull on the more formal version of her red sash and shoulder guard as Lexa pulled herself together and told her a slightly edited version of her conversation with Luna.

“It would be bad to kill her, right?” Anya gave Lexa only a sidelong glance in response.

“She defies me. She questions my motives. She assumes she would have power over me and assumes I have personal interests.”

“Lexa, if you do have any intentions towards the niece of the queen of the Floukru, there will be political repercussions. Not necessarily bad ones, but ‘personal’ doesn’t really exist for people like you. Or for her, come to think of it. Everything is political.”

Lexa moved to her desk twisted open the jar of coal that was on it. She dipped three fingers in. She could apply the paint without a mirror, having been doing it for six years, but tonight she pulled the small circle of glass towards her face to be sure it was perfect. She quickly spread an inch-wide stripe from her hairline, past her left temple, across her eyes and the bridge of her nose and her right temple to the opposite side of her hairline. She touched up the stripe of coal, making sure it reached all the way to the top and bottom of the braids on each side of her head, and filled in everything between her eyebrows and cheekbones. The single solid stripe was typical for a Trikru queen, and though many previous queens had altered the design slightly, Lexa hadn’t created a design that she felt strongly about before becoming queen and decided that her political decisions were enough of a divergence - this one thing about her could be traditional. It felt respectful.

Lexa twisted the jar of coal closed and breathed deeply as she set it down. “I guess this is why commanders are alone more often than not.”

Anya watched the back of Lexa’s head as the girl sadly, quietly contemplated her prospects. She felt for her. It wasn't easy being in charge - a truth that had become overly clear to her while mentoring the child into a commander. Before Anya could think of anything consoling to say (which she suddenly wanted very much to do) Lexa spoke again. “I don't mean to beg for comfort Anya, really. I just don’t know what to do. When my heart and my head diverge, usually it’s at least clear which one is right, but now… I am uncertain.”

Anya nodded. She’d know Lexa her entire life, and even before she could speak it had been clear that the girl had a decisive mind. The few times she’d watched Lexa struggle with a choice, it was because Lexa had to trust information she doubted. “Well, if it’s any help,” she said, putting a hand on Lexa’s shoulder, “You wouldn’t be the first commander who wasn’t alone.” She felt Lexa tense and stepped back to leave, to let Lexa settle in her thoughts. “Your heart may not be steering you wrong. As much as you think you let your head lead you, Lexa, - and don’t disagree with me - your heart has instincts that you trust implicitly. That’s why the people follow you. It’s why I follow you.” Lexa hadn’t turned or relaxed. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

\---

At the edge of the crowd, Costia was standing with her thumbs tucked into her belt and her head tilted up to see the sky. Her back was to the warm flicker of fire that had by now consumed the bodies of her fallen brothers and sisters. Lexa hesitated for a moment before making her way over to the young woman. She hesitated again just a few paces away, unsure why she had come or what exactly she should say. Costia must have heard her approach, though, and spoke first.

“I used to look up at the sky.” She spoke softly, almost as if she were talking to herself but she clearly meant for Lexa to hear her. “Mum used to point out the heroes and beasts in the stars and tell me… well maybe she was just making things up. Sometimes I look up and I see nothing more than tiny points of light, completely separated, hopelessly far from each other, immobile, stuck. We’re all just like that flung out and alone. And then I see one of the heroes, and I can’t unsee it. I can’t unsee the connections between the stars that don’t really exist that maybe only exist for my mum and me.”

“Perception makes reality hard to determine sometimes.”

Costia turned suddenly at the sound of her voice. “Heda! Forgive me, I’ve spoken out of turn - honestly I thought you were Luna-” Lexa’s heart fell a little, but she quickly cut off the rush of words.

“No apology necessary, Costia. My people need not always stand on ceremony. I know you meant no disrespect.” Costia nodded looking a little relieved but still held herself awkwardly. Lexa took a careful step forward so that they were actually standing together, and looked up in the direction Costia had been stargazing.

“I did notice, when I traveled to East for the first time to meet with Luna, the night sky is particularly difficult to ignore. It’s strange how the same sky can seem so much more brilliant from certain places than from others. If I hadn’t noticed it myself I would have found the Floukru obsession with the sky peculiar.” 

Costia nodded. “They guide us. Floukru children are all taught navigation by the stars. It’s one of their first lessons.”

“Your people have been very generous to teach mine the skill. Our ability to navigate by the sky was limited.”

Costia smiled. “If you want to know something else, Floukru are far more suspicious than Trikru. We put great trust the advice of the sky seers.”

“Sky seers?”

“Yes. Their life’s work is to observe the stars. It is mostly for practical purposes, and they are the best teachers of navigation. But they also predict the crops. They tell us when to plant and when the frost is coming. And sometimes they tell us whether we should be cautious in our affairs, whether our luck will serve us or not.”

Lexa frowned. “Are they right?”

Costia let out a soft bark of laughter. “I see why you get along with my aunt. She's also a skeptic.”

“Her people practice something she doubts and she allows it to continue?”

Costia nodded and glanced over her shoulder before replying. “Luna is capable of making the difficult decisions that keep our people safe, but as long as it doesn't threaten us, she lets live. She’s always been that way, but more in the past few years. I think experience has eased her mind about what's dangerous and what's permissible. I envy her certainty.”

Lexa was surprised by the amount of insight Costia had to position of leadership she’d never held. A product of being family, or having been trained by Luna, she guessed.

"Luna always used to tell me: worry is not the product of a strong mind." She wrinkled her nose up in a way that flashed the word ‘adorable’ through Lexa’s mind before she could stop it. “That wasn’t very helpful, actually. It usually just made me feel angry and insulted,” she explained with a self-conscious chuckle. “My mum gave me better advice. She told me not to try to live in the future. She would say that: ‘Don’t go living in the future, Costia, or you won’t make it there.’ Or ‘Don’t live in the past,’ whenever I felt embarrassed or regretted something…”

Lexa watched her talk.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Costia.” Lexa said before her brain could register the implications of what she was saying. What a stupid, obvious, dangerous - if not untrue - thing to say. But was it untrue? Lexa tried to imagine whether she could bring herself to inflict harm upon her, if she had to, as she had had to punish law-breakers before - some of whom she cared deeply for. She didn’t know. She couldn’t imagine Costia breaking a law, at least purposefully, which definitely proved that she was having a lapse in judgement. Anyone could break a law. Costia just looked at her for an uncomfortably long time, lost in thoughts Lexa wished she could hear. Before she could decide whether to amend the statement, Costia spoke slowly.

“I didn't mean…” She seemed to change her mind in the middle of the thought. “I'm surprised. That's the type of thing Luna says to people. But not you.” Lexa, still trying to rearrange the thoughts that had dissolved in her brain, couldn't respond.

“I think the other reason she lets the sky seers continue their practice is for the celebration of the Passing.”

Lexa broke eye contact and softly shook her head once to clear it. “What is the Passing?”

“The passing of the hope star. It crosses our sky almost every night. Once every year we celebrate its continued movement, and continued appearance.” Lexa listened, unsure whether she was more interested in the information or the person sharing it. “I think it's our most universally observed celebration, though I'm not sure why the hope star is so important to us. It's useless for navigation. It's not even a star.”

“What it is?”

“A relic. Man made. Something from before the bombs. A satellite, perhaps. At least - that's what the sky seers say.” She paused, then nodded vaguely over her right shoulder and lowered her voice, though the only person close enough to hear them well was Ryken, sitting a few yards away on a huge fallen log and watching the crowd solemnly. “Heda, I think we're being watched.” Lexa ducked her head before looking as nonchalantly as possible in the direction Costia had indicated. Anya and Luna were standing close to each other, talking calmly. Luna rested one hand at her hip on the hilt of her sword. Anya’s arms were crossed over her chest. Lexa recognized Luna do the exact thing she had just done: look down at the ground for a moment before letting her eyes wander across the crowd towards Lexa. When their eyes met, Luna blinked slowly. As she opened her eyes, she offered a soft, sad half-smile. 

Lexa nodded in response. She heard Costia hum quietly beside her but held Luna’s gaze until she dropped it to return to her conversation with Anya. Costia was looking at the sky again by the time Lexa turned back to her.

“Am I putting you in danger?”

Costia laughed, which made Lexa cringe internally. “Who can say?” As if sensing the seriousness of Lexa’s question, though, she quickly amended herself. “You are an important person. I am also an important person. Because of that we are always in danger. Together we probably put each other in danger, mutually.” She watched Lexa follow her train of thought. “I don’t think you are putting me in any particular danger at this moment.” Lexa finally nodded, satisfied.

A group of Sumter’s warriors exclaimed in surprise and celebration as part of the flaming pyre collapsed, sending sparks and plumes of smoke into the air. The sound of glass shattering carried across the crowd. Costia turned toward the sound. Someone toasted the dead, and a roar arose in agreement.

“I’m not one for the more jovial parts of funerals,” Costia admitted quietly. “I appreciate that others can celebrate, but I never could.” She smiled wistfully and added with a breath of laugh, “This is living in the past, I suppose.”

“Everyone mourns in their own way.” Lexa had turned to watch the warriors near the fire pass around multiple bottles of various kinds of alcohol. “I don't tend to participate in the ends of these nights - in fact -” Anya was watching her, anticipating her departure “-I usually leave when this starts.” 

Costia nodded and looked at her. Lexa met her gaze, then took a final look at the mourning army before turning to meet Anya. Ryken stood and fell into step with her. Lexa felt Costia’s eyes following her as she walked away.

“Heda?” Lexa stopped and turned. Costia seemed to struggle for a moment, then said simply, “Goodnight.”

Lexa knew that appreciation was written all over her face. She felt the blush rising in her cheeks. “Goodnight, Costia.” She stood, feet rooted to the ground, for a second longer than she should have, but finally tore herself up and turned to walk quickly to Anya.

“No personal interests, huh?”

“Be quiet, Anya.”

The three walked in silence away from the warmth of the funeral, amused looks passing between Anya and Ryken behind their young commander’s back.


	3. Third Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa almost fk's up during the rescue mission.

Lexa was meant to remain in the second safe house. The second safe house was a previously existing basement, dusty and decrepit and full of someone’s abandoned life. The entrance was a hatch door that held onto a single corner of faded, chipped paint, protected from the elements by a piece of the destroyed above ground structure’s foundation. It was reinforced from the inside and locked automatically, making the space protect not only from the acid fog but also the Mountain Men, when they ventured out so far.

Lexa visualized the memory of when she had entered those doors - rushed and silent with twenty warriors in front of her and twenty behind and the glow of predawn seaping diagonally through the bare autumn trees. The morning had been full of hope and a promise of success. The Mountain Men had let them approach without trouble, unaware that Lexa was prepared for the traps she was sending her army into. Her arrival at the safe house where she would spend the rest of the day was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Twelve hours later, Lexa was tired, worried, and fidgety.

She, Ryken, and a healer named Aspen from a nearby Trikru village sat in different corners of the large, low-ceilinged room. Aspen had his finger on the pulse of an injured and shallowly breathing warrior with war paint that marked him as part of Sumter’s army. They were waiting for the return of the final three groups of the mission. Though the groups were not late, Lexa fought more anxiety every minute that passed. She focused on her breathing and tried to repeat in her head all the advice Anya had ever given her about sending the people she was supposed to protect into life-threatening situations. _You must look into their eyes and say “Go die for me.” You were born for this. You were born for this._

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a horn in the distance, quickly followed by the pounding of approaching footsteps outside. Ryken rushed to the doors prepared for either friend or enemy. Just before the footsteps reached the doors, someone blew a whistle pattern and Ryken threw open the hatch. Ten warriors hurried in, the final four dragging two struggling, bound Reapers.

Ryken cautiously peeked outside for the last team. One of the warriors below him said “They aren’t with us,” and he quickly closed the hatch.

Lexa crossed the room and addressed the warrior who had spoken. “Where are they?”

“We lost them after we set up to capture the Reapers. A bunch of Mountain Men drove the Reapers farther North than we had planned for and a few teams had to relocate to avoid being trampled. We lost contact with them after that, but they hadn’t been through any of the safe houses we came back through, and they should have been ahead of us.”

“Which groups?”

“One from the Southlands. One from the River Clan. One from the Boat Clan.”

Lexa’s features hardened. Two teams from the Boat Clan had gone out. One had already passed on its way back, dragging an unconscious Reaper with it. The second was still in Mountain territory - acid fog territory. The second was being led by Costia, not that Lexa was concerned about her in particular. The thought crossed her mind and she pushed it back, responding to the warrior’s information with a nod and gesturing to the man currently under Aspen’s care. “Once it’s clear, take the wounded back with you.” A pair of women walked over to Aspen and listened to his instructions.

After only a few minutes, a horn blew to signal safety. The warriors looked at each other. One spoke what they were all thinking: “That was quick.” “Maybe they didn’t release the fog,” suggested another. Ryken hurried up the stairs and slowly opened one of the doors. “It is clear,” he reported over his shoulder.

“Let’s go, then,” said the first warrior who had spoken when they entered, and led the two groups into the clear evening. Ryken watched them hurry away, then ducked back inside and frowned at Lexa. She gazed at the floor worriedly. “The Boat Clan is the last one meant to come through this way. The others may have recovered in different directions,” he offered.

She nodded and returned to the corner of the room she had been sitting in all day on the rusty skeleton of a metal safe. And waited. _Look into her eyes and say, “Go die for me.”_

Minutes passed. After about ten minutes, a horn sounded to signal the arrival of the two teams that had stopped at the safehouse. A few minutes later the sound repeated for two more teams. Ryken made a mark on the wall for each of them. He counted them to be sure, then said quietly to Lexa, “All the teams but one have returned to camp.”

“We wait for as long as we can,” Lexa said without looking up.

Minutes turned into an hour. Ryken snuck outside, circled the area a few times, and returned. A horn blew, calling them home.

Lexa closed her eyes. “Not yet.” When she opened them she saw Ryken ready to try to convince her to leave.

“Heda, you are waiting for five warriors. An army is waiting for you at camp. You cannot abandon your army for five warriors.”

“If we leave, they will not be able to get inside here. We kill them if we leave.”

“They are willing to die.”

Lexa took a deep breath before admitting, “I am not willing to let them die.”

Ryken didn’t give her advice the way Gustus or Anya did. Officially he didn’t have the authority to do so, but the five years he had on Lexa made it so that occasionally, if the situation was right and it had to do with protecting her, he questioned her orders. But he also walked with her through almost everything she did, and had more sympathy for her position than almost any of the people who were close to her. So he thought of Costia and he hesitated. He hesitated long enough for a second horn to blow. This one signaled the release of acid fog. Suddenly, tiny bugs and animals were rushing into the safe underground space. Moments later, a commotion broke out nearby the hatch doors, and someone whistled. Ryken sprinted to the hatch and threw open the doors.

The final five warriors, with dark cloths wrapped over their nose and mouth, jumped in through the hatch doors, skipping stairs as they landed and rushed out of the doorway. Ryken slammed the doors closed before more than a few wisps of yellow fog chased them in their wake.

Lexa searched their eyes until the last one landed and quickly pulled the cloth down to her chin. “We have to go quickly, Heda, the Mountain Men are right behind us.”

It took an extra second for Lexa to register her words with the flood of relief that filled her. Costia had already pulled her mask back on and was about to head back outside. Lexa rushed forward and held her by the arm. “We’ll all be burned. We wait here.”

Costia looked at her for a moment with her mouth slightly open as if she meant to fight to leave, but quickly choked back her argument in respect. “Yes Heda.”

The other Floukru warriors panted slightly and settled around the room. Aspen looked at one of them who had a small acid fog burn on her leg. Costia finally sat down on the stairs and sighed. She appeared not to know what to do with her hands. Lexa recognized the feeling of leftover or anticipatory adrenaline coursing through a still body.

Once, footsteps beat past outside. Nothing had indicated that the air had cleared, so probably the footsteps were of someone from the mountain. Lexa looked around and saw Costia and Ryken glancing between the hatch and her. It would be dangerous to leave now. A skirmish with the Mountain Men seemed likely.

A while passed before the horn rang out again. Lexa crossed to the hatch. The small group stood and started to gather near her. Ryken stood at her side, waiting for her signal to open the doors. Costia stood behind her, and glanced back at her warriors before whispering “Ready.” Ryken pushed the door open.

The next seven minutes were a blur of focus and forward energy.

The eight of them took off into the dark forest, sprinting down a path through the underbrush, Lexa in the lead with Ryken nearly beside her. She dodged through the trees and past the final safehouse - they didn’t need it - and only had a few hundred yards before the trees would clear and they would be outside the Mountain’s reach. Lexa kept running until the trees started thinning, scanned the forest, slowed and turned to let the group pass her to she could take the rear. Ryken slowed and waited a few steps ahead of her. Aspen, three of the Fluokru warriors, Costia, and the final Floukru warrior all passed them. She scanned the woods behind them and skipped backwards once to fall in behind the group -

A shot rang out. Lexa doubled over and tripped. She tried to push herself up and run. A wave of dizziness knocked her back down. A second shot shook the air and hit a tree beside her. Ryken hurried back from where he had skidded to a stop, picked up her body and carried it as fast as he could towards camp. She curled up against his body, holding her abdomen and trying to slow the bleeding.

\---

Lexa sat on the edge of a stool with her face in her hands. Her war paint was smudged up onto her forehead and her jaw was clenched. Aspen sat behind her, cleaning the exit wound of a bullet on her lower side. She flinched and bit down on the flesh of one of her hands as he touched the small hole. He didn't say out loud how lucky she was that it hadn't hit her an inch higher, lower or closer to the center of her abdomen. She knew.

Ryken and Gustus stood across from her in her tent. Gustus leaned against a beam and watched unsympathetically. Ryken watched the door and glanced worriedly at Aspen every time Lexa's breath hitched.

Aspen finally broke the silence. “Ryken, bring me a torch.” Ryken hurried out. “Heda, sit up please.” Lexa slowly leaned back from the position that put pressure on the entry wound to relieve some of the pain. The hole in her stomach opened as she moved and her face paled slightly. The amount that she had managed to slow the blood loss was insignificant and as soon as she moved, it began flowing again. Aspen pressed a clean cloth to her abdomen and moved her hand to make her hold it there herself. “The bullet only hit muscle. Cauterizing should stop the bleeding, but you’ll need to rest and let it heal. And keep it clean. It will probably get infected.” Lexa nodded faintly.

Ryken came hurrying back in with a flickering torch. He brought it to Aspen who had pulled out a long, thin dagger, and offered the flaming side to the healer. Aspen held the dagger in the flames until it shimmered with heat. Lexa looked away and dug her nails into the underside of her seat as Aspen uncovered the wound and brought the tip of the blade to her abdomen.

She didn’t scream, but as soon as he pulled the dagger away from her skin, she swayed unsteadily and fought to stay conscious. A wave of nausea passed through her stomach and her throat. Her ears felt like they had been stuffed with cotton. Blackness crept into the edges of her vision. She blinked quickly, fighting to keep her eyes open. Vaguely she recognized familiar voices moving closer to her and strong hands holding her upright by her arms.

When her eyes and ears cleared, Gustus was kneeling next to her grasping her carefully. His face remained straight but concern and a touch of anger poured from his eyes in the way he watched her.

She breathed slowly and let her blood pressure return to normal. The burn on her stomach throbbed. Aspen was spreading a cool paste on the wound. He put a different ointment on the exit wound, then wrapped a long piece of clean cotton around her three times, covering both. The burn started to numb and she shifted cautiously, testing movement. Her abdomen ached and pain shot up her side.

Lexa carefully pulled her shirt down. She searched the floor for her shoulder guard and sash before looking up at Gustus. “I need to see my people.” Gustus’ face remained unreadable, but he only paused for a moment before picking up the discarded armor and carrying it to Lexa. He offered an arm to help her up, which she took, and pulled herself up. Gustus swung the sash over her head and settled it slowly on her shoulder, waiting for her not to be able to carry its weight. She clenched her jaw but stood steady.

“You shouldn’t be walking around, Heda,” Gustus said without much hope that it would change her mind. Aspen had busied himself packing the tools he was done with, but glanced up between them to see if Lexa would take his advice.

“I know, Gustus. But I sent young men and women to risk death for me, and they did, and the ones who survived or barely survived should be able to look into the face of the person they did it for.”

“They did it for themselves too, and each other. They can wait a day.”

“They did not ask me to wait when I asked them to go die.”

Gustus knew he was not going to win. He stopped trying and followed her outside. She walked slowly but purposefully through the maze of tents until she reached the one for the wounded and sick.

Lexa meandered between the cots and stretchers that had been set up inside. Most of the injuries were acid fog burns. Though the safe houses had worked as planned, many warriors had barely made it between them, and some had had to rush out before the fog had completely cleared. Though only a few were killed by it, the acid fog injured more warriors than the Reapers and the Mountain Men combined.

Most of the injured warriors were asleep, but some looked up and watched her pass them. The few healers wandering between their patients acknowledged her without much fanfare and she nodded back to let them continue working. Gustus stopped at the bedside of someone he recognized from his village.

Having done all she claimed she needed to do, Lexa turned to Gustus. “Stay with him.” Gustus squinted at her suspiciously. “Ryken can bring me back.” He heard the authoritative tone and remained where he was as she walked away with Ryken flanking her.

As soon as they were out of the tent, Lexa turned in the opposite direction of her tent. Ryken shot her a look, hoping she would explain herself so he’d have some idea whether this night would end with him carrying her unconscious, injured body back to her tent again or not.

She saw his glance and decided he deserved an answer. “I need to see the Reapers.” He nodded and followed her to the edge of camp, where she let out a breath in a huff and let her shoulders relax. Ryken took a step forward to fall in next her and she took the arm he offered. They walked slowly across a small field together, Lexa holding Ryken’s shoulder to help support herself. As they approached the trees at the far end of the field, moans of protest began to reach her ears. Warriors hurried around outside a pair of dark tents. When she reached them, she loosened her grip on Ryken’s arm and squared her shoulders again. He lifted a flap of the first tent and she walked in masking the pain she felt.

Two rows of bodies lay on the floor. Their hands and feet were all bound. All but one were unconscious. The conscious one was struggling weakly against the two young warriors who held him down. A third had just rushed over with a wet cloth and was covering the Reaper’s mouth and nose with it. He struggled and tried to turn away from the cloth, but couldn’t manage to escape before he had breathed in too much of the liquid’s fumes. His movements slowed to twitching, and then nothing more than his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The three warriors carefully released their grips on him and stood and turned to face their commander.

Ryken spoke first - a rare assertion for his usually quiet presence, emphasizing his nervousness for Lexa’s health. “Speak quickly, we cannot stay long.”

One of the healers nodded and addressed Lexa. “All we can do is keep them sedated for now. We managed to bind and calm all the ones that came in uninjured, but two had struggled too much and been hurt. They both lost too much blood for us to save them. We lost them soon after we’d sedated them.”

“Where are those two?”

“In the other tent, Heda.”

“What else can we do for these?”

“In the morning we can begin to try to find a way to remove the monster from their blood. But it is difficult to say where it came from, and our attempts may be dangerous for them.”

“Do everything you can to save them.”

“We will, Heda.”

Lexa nodded, glanced at the recently conscious Reaper, and left the tent. She entered the second tent. It was emptier than the first. A few warriors came in and out quietly, carrying buckets of clean or bloody water, rags, and bottles of liquor. At the back, two bodies lay still, covered by thin cloth. She walked to them and indicated for Ryken to pull back the tops of the cloth. He circled the bodies and squatted next to the first, carefully revealing the face. Lexa nodded and Ryken moved to the second body. When he pulled back the cloth covering it, Lexa recoiled. He quickly recovered the young man’s still features and stood. Lexa turned and exited the tent. Ryken hurried to follow her.

The healer who had given Lexa a report was standing outside the first tent. Lexa stopped and looked at her. “Do everything you can.” Lexa held the healer’s gaze as she indicated her complete understanding before crossing the field slightly quicker than she had minutes earlier. Ryken knew that she was not in less physical pain than what had been limiting her speed before.

As they reached the edge of camp, Lexa saw Costia sitting outside Luna’s tent sipping something out of a dented metal cup. Costia looked up at she approached and paused. “Walk with me.” Lexa didn’t phrase it as a question, but the way she searched Costia’s face as she said it made it clear that it was a request. Costia stood and fell into step with her. They walked together toward her tent. Neither spoke.

Costia finished her drink in two swallows and held the cup loosely in the hand, Lexa noticed, on the far side of her body. She occasionally glanced over casually. She didn’t seem nervous by it but had noticed Lexa’s troubled expression.

“What’s wrong, Heda?”

Lexa felt a pang in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with the bullet hole through her abdomen. The juxtaposition of Costia’s ability to read her grief and confidence to ask about it with the use of Lexa’s former title was striking. And wrong. But Lexa wasn’t about to change it. How could she even try to correct something that fell so clearly within the order of things?

She replied without looking at Costia. “One of the Reapers we lost - I recognized him.” Costia watched her face as she spoke but turned back to ground with a nod. “We learned to fight together. Before Anya chose me as her second, he and I would spend hours every day sparring and wrestling. We grew up together, until I was called to lead.” She paused, and continued almost too softly for Costia to hear: “I didn’t know he had been taken.”

Costia nodded, looking at the ground, and waited to see if Lexa wanted to continue. She didn't, and they arrived at the commander’s quarters without further conversation. 

Lexa sighed and nearly rolled her eyes before gesturing to Costia’s cup and asking, “What were you drinking?”

“Rum. Luna prefers it. She occasionally sends people out to find undiscovered stores of it.”

“I know. She shared some with me the first time we met, and when she joined the coalition she sent me a few bottles of it… with some other very generous gifts.” Lexa paused and took a breath before asking slowly, “I have some, if you’d like to continue…”

Costia raised an eyebrow and nodded. Lexa searched her face and turned to enter her tent. Ryken entered first to hold the front open for her, and leaned in as she passed him. “Heda, you need rest,” he spoke softly into her ear.

“I will rest, Ryken,” Lexa replied quickly in an even more clipped tone than normal, before Costia could hear her.

He shot her a look but let Costia into the tent, set a lamp on a table next to the entrance, and went to sit outside.

Lexa walked stiffly across the tent and pulled a bottle wrapped in a rabbit skin and a small cup from one of her trunks. She crossed back to the center of the space where Costia had wandered, taking it in. Her eyes were resting on a small pile of old books sitting next to Lexa’s bed. “You bring books to war?”

“Just those three,” Lexa said without more explanation, unscrewing the bottle cap and pouring some for Costia (Costia stopped her quickly saying “Just a little”) and then pouring barely a shot for herself. She held her cup up for Costia to clink, then swallowed the liquid in a single gulp. Costia sipped hers.

“Do you want to talk about your friend?”

Lexa sighed and shook her head slightly as she returned the bottle to it place. From the other side of the room she said, “I want them to be safe. I want us all to be safe. Every person I lose I carry with me.”

“It is what makes you a great leader. Your people trust you not to waste their sacrifices.”

Lexa shook her head, studying the ground at her feet. “Waste is inevitable in war.” She took a shuddering breath and moved to her bed. She sat leaning against the headboard and flinched as she tried to lift her legs to stretch them out in front of her. Frustrated by the difficulty of simple movements, she turned away for a moment to compose her face. When she turned back, Costia was standing next to her bed. As soon as Lexa looked up at her, Costia’s expression lost confidence and she paused in the middle of reaching towards Lexa’s knees.

“Sorry. May I?” Lexa nodded. Costia kneeled and loosened the laces of her boots. She placed a hand behind one of Lexa’s knees, fingers wrapped gently around the tight leather stretched over sensitive flesh there, causing tingles to run up Lexa’s thigh, and pulled off one boot carefully. She did the same with the other, then held her ankles (something expanded in Lexa’s chest) and helped Lexa with the weight as she lifted her legs onto the bed.

“I’m sure you have someone who’s better at this…”

“Everyone in eight clans does what I tell them to. If I wanted someone else here right now, they’d be here.”

“Hm. They do what you tell them because you wouldn’t just order someone to take your boots off for you, even with a hole in your stomach.” The corner of Lexa’s mouth twitched playfully. “Unless I misunderstood a command to come with you as a request a few minutes ago.”

“You didn’t misunderstand.” Costia sat at the foot of the bed, leaned against the footboard and rested one foot on the bed in front of her with her knee bent. Lexa watched her adjust her clothes and settle, and imagined that if Costia just leaned her knee a little bit to one side, it would rest against her own, and wondered how that would feel, and how it would feel to have that kind of physical ease with someone. She imagined knowing the weight of Costia's body, even so that it wouldn’t send vibrations through all of her body when they touched. She imagined memorizing how all of their physical contact felt, so that none of it shocked her, or made her shake, or scared her, or took all strength from her.

Costia was watching her patiently. “It was a long day.”

Lexa tipped her head in agreement. “What happened at the Mountain?”

“A group of Reapers cut us off from the groups nearby us, and drove us into a squad of mountain men. We were surrounded and hugely outnumbered so we hid and waited. The Reapers finally had to be called back and we escaped, but they released the acid fog because they knew that’s when we would run.” She paused. “We ran to you. We didn’t have a better option, even though I’d heard the horn calling you back. I was worried you’d be gone, and not all of my warriors could have outrun the fog for another mile. I’d already counted them as dead, actually, when I blew the whistle. I thought… when Ryken opened the doors I was shocked.”

Lexa nodded and sighed and let the silence settle for a minute. “We waited a long time.”

“You waited too long.”

“I waited longer than was advisable.”

Costia nodded. “Thank you.” Then, softer, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

Lexa closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “His fight was unjustly difficult. He had a strong heart. A good heart. He was a good playmate and after we were separated when I became commander I expected he would become a great warrior. But. I’m glad he doesn’t have to fight any longer.”

Costia nodded. “Perhaps his spirit will have more luck in its next life.” She watched Lexa’s features calm slightly. Her eyes remained closed.

Lexa thought of sparring as a child, thought of running through the woods and climbing trees and falling and one time when she twisted her ankle and he had helped her limp home and wrap it (badly: she’d injured it further the next day, which caused a weakness in the tendons that she would have to be careful of for the rest of her life) and one time he’d broke his arm, which they couldn’t hide, and she thought of the tearful goodbye they’d shared when she was asked to move to the capital, back before she learned it was dangerous and therefore shameful to show so much emotion. And then she thought of the face she’d just seen, imagined it clean of limestone and blood, and he tilted his head down and looked up at her through his lashes and smiled playfully -

Lexa jolted out of the half-sleep she’d fallen into. Costia was still sitting across from her, watching her with a small sad half-smile. She seemed to realize the implication of Lexa’s eyes snapping open a half-second too late, and blushed and suddenly began studying her empty cup intently. When she looked up again she sighed and began, “It’s late, I should let you…”

“I appreciate your company.” Costia stopped with her mouth open as if she couldn’t decide how to react. Finally she settled for, “It was happily given.” Lexa sighed. “You’re right, though. We should sleep.”

“Thanks for the drink,” Costia smiled softly and stood. “Would you like some good news before I go?”

“Please.”

“Two of my favorite comics are planning a performance for tomorrow night.”

“Comics?”

“The troupe decided this crowd needs laughter.” Costia paused, assessing Lexa’s concerned expression. “They are skilled at politics, Heda, if you're concerned about the direction of their humor. They'll treat you well. You acted heroically today, anyway. Not every leader would have waited so long for... five warriors.”

“I try not to focus too much on heroism. It’s far too often confused with stupidity.”

“Judge them after you've seen them.” A playful look crossed Costia’s features. “You can always have them killed if you disapprove.”

Lexa looked at her with a straight face. “I could.”

Costia’s small smile spread slowly across her face. She turned and walked slowly out of the tent. As soon as she was gone, Lexa shuffled in her bed to lay down, shifting haltingly to avoid changing the position of her abdomen. She lay still to let the pain fade as much as it would, and stared at the ceiling for a long time before she finally drifted into dreams of a young boy with clear, sky-blue eyes who knew her heart, and a young woman with eyes grey as the ocean who was discovering it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EW THE LAST SENTENCE IS GROSS I KNOW


	4. Sixth Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically fluff. Lexa recovers (from a gunshot that was actually meant for her, not some stry bllet bs), but with alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is total fluff, which I felt bad about when I started this chapter a month ago, but now feels so necessary.
> 
> Which, just fyi - if anyone is still feeling down my inbox is open: my tumblr is findthebrightplaces or iamthewildrover.

Lexa couldn’t remember how many times she’d woken up, or how long she’d been lying in her bed. She remembered drifting in and out of consciousness. Sometimes, sunlight was warming the ceiling of her tent. Other times, darkness and the calming sound of crickets lulled her back to her fever-sleep almost immediately. Voices came and went. She recognized Aspen, who seemed to be the reason for her consciousness more often than not, as well as Anya multiple times, Gustus more than once, and Luna twice (both times in somber conversation with Anya). Sometimes she wasn’t sure if the voices were real or part of the mess of dreams she was having.

When she finally came around and the sounds didn’t echo into her ears and images didn’t swim before her, she was covered and lying in her own sweat. She was in her underclothes but covered in a thin cotton blanket and layers of furs. Her muscles felt like rubber. Weakness coursed through her. She wiggled her toes and stretched her feet to flex her calves. That worked, at least. Her arms also seemed fine, but as soon as she tried to lift her head and shoulders, the vague ache in her side flared into something that was definitely more than just ache. She relaxed quickly and squeezed her eyes shut.

When she got a handle on the pain, she lifted the blanket and carefully (without moving anything past her neck) looked down at her stomach. Between the entry and the exit wounds a huge black-purple-green bruise had formed. The wounds themselves were red and swollen and had progressed in a frightening way since the last time Lexa had seen them. She winced at the sight.

“It’s about time you came around.” Lexa jumped slightly in surprise and moaned at the pain it caused to shoot through her side. Anya had been sitting against a trunk at the head of Lexa’s bed, and stood silently when she saw Lexa move. “Ryken.” The young man stepped into the tent quickly. “Her fever’s broken. Get Aspen.”

“It’s good to see you awake, Heda,” Ryken said with a half-smile before exiting as quickly as he came.

“What time is it?”

“Almost dinner.” Lexa frowned at the answer. “If that’s how you feel about the time, I won’t tell you what day it is…” Lexa’s frown disappeared, replaced by an expression that communicated a complete lack of joking.

“How long have I been sick, Anya?”

“Two and a half days.” 

Lexa groaned. She’d have held up the clan leaders getting home, probably. “Have the armies been sent home?”

“The clan leaders agreed unanimously that they would wait for you to recover before sending anyone away. For the first time many of them considered what would happen to a half-formed Coalition without you at its helm.”

“But my spirit-”

“Will find a new vessel, yes, but now it also has to do with you, and how long it will take for a new Commander to prepare for leadership.”

Lexa hummed thoughtfully. Ryken returned with Aspen moments later. The healer crossed to Lexa’s bed and knelt at its side. “Good evening, Heda. It’s good to see you with your eyes fully open.” He pulled the blanket down to her waist and wiped the wounds on her abdomen and her side with something alcoholic that stung.

Anya had crossed the tent and whispered something into Ryken’s ear. Before Lexa could ask what needed to be said in her own tent that she couldn’t know, Ryken had left again and Anya was back at her side, pushing a stack of pillows under her shoulders and pulling her up so she could get a sleeveless shirt down over her head and arms to cover her chest. It was a fussing gesture and the movement hurt, and as soon as the shirt was on Lexa brushed Anya off. She knocked her on the temple with her knuckles softly to scold her before letting her be.

As far as Lexa could tell, Aspen was just continuing to poke at her wounds and bruises for the fun of watching her squirm, but when she opened her mouth to tell him she’d take his hands if he was causing her unnecessary pain, he said without breaking concentration, “Would you like to fall back into a fever for three more days? Can you assure me you’re not bleeding to death internally? Or that the contents of one of your organs isn’t about to leak out?” Lexa shut her mouth and leaned back and tried not imagine that the second or third option was the cause of her pain. Anya huffed in sardonic laughter as she plopped down in a chair near the door and swung her feet up onto a stool.

Lexa let her head roll to one side so that she could show Anya the new death glare she’d been practicing, but as she watched the laugh fade from her face, she noticed the dark circles under Anya’s eyes and the way her pants were wrinkled on one side as if she’d slept in her clothes. Anya looked back at Lexa, and Lexa knew that Anya was the last person who deserved her short temper right now. Lexa’s face softened in appreciation. With thousands of people obliged to die for her, it was good to know that at least one of them would voluntarily sleep at the side of her sickbed so she wouldn’t wake up alone.

Lexa’s silent veneration of her mentor was interrupted by Ryken re-entering the tent. He held open the front of the tent and Costia, followed by two young women, ducked inside. “I was told you needed a distraction.” She smiled shyly and gestured to the two women flanking her. “So I brought you two of my most entertaining friends.”

Costia’s hair had been let out of all its warrior braids. It flowed in dark waves down to her shoulders. Her olive skin seemed to glow slightly, and her eyes shone.

Her friends, one with beautiful, intricate blue and brown Floukru tattoos circling her right eye, and one with hair so curly that the mohawk she was sporting stood three inches tall seemingly without any help, glanced around the tent respectfully but appraisingly. They bowed slightly when Costia paused in the middle of the room, but otherwise seemed unintimidated by the presence of their commander.

“Will you stay in bed now, Heda?” Aspen whispered, still with his eyes glued on the gigantic bruise he was examining carefully.

Lexa knew that the tumbles her stomach was doing had nothing to do with her injury, and felt suddenly simultaneously lighter and heavier. She chose to accept Aspen’s subtle teasing with sarcasm that hopefully would cover the waver her throat was threatening to inject into her voice. “I suppose I will have to.” Aspen smiled slightly and sat back, putting his hands in his lap.

At a more normal volume, as if to gain the support of the people in the room who would be there to hold Lexa to his instructions, he said “Stay in bed. Please. Leave this uncovered. Call me if you start to feel sick again.” He glanced at the three women casually waiting behind him and stood.

As he left, he turned back and announced, “If the pain gets to be too much, Heda, drinking something might help.” Costia raised an eyebrow and glanced sidelong at Lexa. Aspen shot Anya a look as he left, which she responded to with a shrug and an eye roll.

“Heda, Patux-” Costia gestured to the woman with the tattoos around her eye, then to the one with the mohawk “-and Dela.”

Lexa looked at each of them slowly. For the first time they had the decency to look nervous, and glanced at Costia who had hooked her hands together behind her back and was waiting patiently but expectantly for Lexa to respond. Instead, Lexa finally shifted her focus to Anya who was still seated by the door and oddly focused on examining the leather handle of her dagger. “It was your idea to throw a party in my tent to keep me here, I trust?”

Without looking away from her dagger, Anya raised an eyebrow and shook her head once. “I can’t help it if you have people who care about your well-being and happiness, Lex.”

Costia had looked to Anya as she answered, and Lexa saw her jaw drop a little at Anya’s casual address. She felt exposed suddenly, but not angry. It made her vulnerable, she knew, and Anya knew, to have people below her experience her as a title-less person. The irony wasn’t lost on her: she was already lying injured and half-dressed in front of them - and her name made her vulnerable.

Anya looked up from her dagger and stood. Across the room she shout-whispered, “Are you not going to invite your guests to sit? Please, Floukru friends, be comfortable.” She was demonstrating, and Lexa let her continue, because Anya seemed intent on the gathering. Also, Costia had recovered from her surprise and seemed to enjoy Anya in this mood.

Anya crossed to one of Lexa’s trunks and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “Costia, where is your aunt? Why is she not with us?”

“Patux, find my aunt…” Patux, who had just barely settled on a stool after carefully considering Anya’s invitation and Lexa’s silence, tossed her head back and sighed overdramatically but glanced over her shoulder to flash Costia a smile as she left. Lexa watched their easy interaction. Something heavy knotted in the pit of her stomach.

Costia didn’t sit as Anya closed the trunk with a thud, but she did wander closer to the foot of Lexa’s bed. Lexa watched her movements. It was as if Costia unthinkingly followed the single path she’d taken through the space, and then noticed her direction and hesitated. 

Anya caught Costia under one arm as she crossed toward Lexa’s bed, holding the bottle and a stack of cups in the opposite hand. She handed them to Dela and pulled Costia with her as she sat on the edge of Lexa’s bed. “I say we should all have some medicine. And then, Heda, surely you can have dinner wherever you’d like.”

Lexa steeled herself. She braced her hands against the mattress on either sides of her waist and pushed up, raising herself to a sitting position. As soon as her center of gravity was beneath her torso, she walked her hands forward so that she could lean forward with her weight on her arms and less on her core, and tried her most dead-serious eyes on Anya, whose face was twisted into a smug, dare-you expression. The eight years between them had started to feel smaller, as Lexa grew up faster than she should and Anya’s job became more often giving Lexa an opportunity to safely, privately be the child she could’ve been. Lexa didn’t often appreciate it in the moment, but this time her seriousness was masking how much she suddenly wanted an opportunity to act her age around the people who were her age. Or, perhaps, a particular person who was her age. And she knew Anya could tell this.

Their staredown was interrupted by orange sunset light streaming into the space. Ryken pulled the front of the tent open and then stepped to the side to allow Luna, Patux and a young Trikru warrior into the tent. Lexa recognized him. He was training to be a healer in Indra’s village. Indra had brought him on a few of Lexa’s coalition missions, and at the Boat Clan’s capital last year Luna had taken a particular liking to his quiet sense of humor and gentle manner with the Floukru children who had flocked to meet the strange visitors. He was now bashful in Lexa’s presence, and followed Luna but quickly pulled away and looked to Lexa for any sign that he shouldn’t be so close with another clan’s leader.

“Lincoln,” Lexa called him. His soft features seemed to look up to her, despite his height and her lower position, as he fully turned to her and knelt briefly. “Rise, Lincoln, kom ain kru. I am glad to see you have renewed the friendships you began when we visited the Boat Clan. Indra was wise to bring you.”

Lincoln’s face warmed and he offered a smile that was somehow more in his eyes than on his mouth. Dela had stood with his entrance and embraced him quickly when Lexa was done speaking, grinning and grasping his shoulder as they pulled apart. They spoke quietly to each other and sat down on chairs that Patux had dragged over to a respectful but inclusive distance from Lexa’s bedside.

Luna settled on the edge of the trunk at the foot of Lexa’s bed. “Anya, I know we can blame you for this annoyance to our commander. Are you at least going to feed her?”

“She can feed herself.”

Lexa interjected before Luna could continue teasing Anya. “She is right here and doesn’t appreciate either of you talking about her as if she’s lost her ability to hear.”

Costia, now sandwiched between Anya and Luna, turned to Luna. “Oh, did you not know? You were supposed to bring food with you. Patux should probably not be employed as a messenger.”

Patux scoffed and laughed. Luna grinned at her niece and then Patux. “Patux, let’s go get some dinner.” She glanced at Dela, who had started pouring whiskey into glasses and handing them to Lincoln to distribute. “Before these fools serve us all liquid dinners.” Patux grinned and followed Luna out.

While Dela and Lincoln were distracted teasing Patux on her way out about her inability to stay seated, Lexa asked Anya quietly, “Do I get to be any more clothed for this gathering you’ve decided to throw in my bedroom?”

“You’re welcome for the shirt, by the way.”

Lexa saw the humor in her eyes and refused to give in to the laughter that threatened to bubble up from her belly. It would have been a strange mix of terrifying and thrilling to have had all these people walk in on her looking really injured, wounds exposed, in only her underclothes. She decided it would have been more terrifying at this point and kept a straight face. 

Anya turned to Costia. “In that trunk-” (she leaned into Costia’s space in order to point to the trunk at the foot of the bed) “-there are pants. Could you grab a pair for me?”

Costia seemed torn between laughing and being intimidated, and stood carefully to get out of the space Anya had decided to commandeer. She glanced at Lexa for direction. Lexa nodded and accepted the loose black trousers Costia found after a moment’s searching. She threw the blankets off her legs and pulled them on, aware of the flush that spread across Costia’s cheeks as she turned away quickly. Anya watched Lexa sidelong with an eyebrow raised and one corner of her mouth twitching to resist a grin.

Dela broke out into laughter at something Lincoln had said. Lincoln leaned away from her, smiling bashfully. Lexa glanced at them. Warmth grew in her belly and her cheeks. A vague thought, more like a blurry image, started to form in her mind. She could feel something like a void being filled in a part of her chest that she didn't know existed before, filled by the laughter of someone she barely knew but trusted, and the two sets of eyes following her face - one steady and one shy. Something in the air was different in this room with these people in it. Dela’s laugh slowly subsided to chuckles and she offered Lexa one of the many cups of whiskey at her feet.

Patux and Luna burst in suddenly, their arms full of dishes. “Who’s hungry?”

\---

Three hours later, Lexa’s room and most of the people in it were effectively trashed. She was on her feet (sitting in bed had lasted through her second drink), swaying to the soft, quick tune Patux and Dela were weaving with two flutes that was had appeared about an hour ago. Anya was trying to teach her the steps to a slow dance that fit into the 3-beat rhythm the song had, and trying not to giggle like a child at Lexa’s drunken attempts to imitate her own admittedly inelegant version of the dance.

Lincoln had pulled Nyko in at one point and were entertaining Costia and Luna with stories of the more ridiculous injuries they’d had to treat. The four were gathered around a table covered in the remains of their food. The table, like the rest of the furniture, had been pushed to the side of the tent. Nyko and Luna had their backs to the center of the room where Anya and Lexa were pretending to have a serious dance lesson, but Costia and Lincoln were leaning against the sides of the table. This made it easy for Costia to hide the fact that she couldn’t stop glancing at the commander of eight clans, who was currently stepping confidently - if not always exactly where she meant to - to the movement of her friends’ music and seeming like she’d let herself forget for a moment that she had thousands of lives to protect.

Costia may have been subtle, but it only took a few minutes for Lexa to notice the flickering glances. The dance wasn’t difficult. Balancing was. Staying upright against the pain in her abdomen was. She’d been standing and sitting repeatedly since she’d decided that Aspen had really just given her a recommendation, and she had followed it for a completely reasonable amount of time. Drunk or not, all the movement was taking a toll, and she knew she had a limited amount of time before her body would be done. She decided that she’d had enough to drink, and tried to concentrate on whether it was wise to meet the grey eyes she could feel watching her.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but it suddenly felt like there wasn’t really a choice to make at all. She misstepped slightly in a pattern she’d been nearly getting.

“Lexa, you’re not even trying.”

“Anya, I never would have asked to be your second if this was the first lesson you’d ever given me,” Lexa said.

“I never would have accepted you as my second if this was the first thing I tried to teach you,” Anya shot back without expecting an answer. Lexa wasn’t watching her anymore.

Lexa half-heard Anya’s retort and let it lie. She stopped swaying to the music and looked steadily towards Costia. Costia’s next glance was quickly retracted, but when she felt Lexa’s gaze stay steady on her, she turned her eyes back slowly. Lexa offered a small smile and gestured to join her with a tilt of her head. Checking that Luna was fully engaged in Nyko’s story, she pushed off the table and strode to the center of the room.

Lexa watched Costia, felt her presence nearing and passing closer than she needed to on her way to whisper something into Patux’s ear. Patux raised an eyebrow in response without pausing her song. Lexa caught a flicker of curious eye contact with Patux before Costia turned and stole her attention. She approached Lexa again slowly, looking up at her through long lashes. Lexa’s heart pounded and she hoped her face was as composed as she knew how to keep it when sober. She felt her eyebrow twitch slightly, nervously.

As Costia reached her, Patux and Dela transitioned to a different song. Patux held the last note as Dela put down her flute and began to beat out a much faster rhythm on the box she’d been sitting on. It vibrated deeply. Patux pushed her tone into a quick two-step melody.

Costia held her hand out to Lexa. “I promise my dance is easier. May I?”

Lexa let one corner of her mouth curve up and placed her hand in Costia’s.

“Feet first. Step towards me once, to the side, then back to the center, then forward to my other side…” She stepped to Lexa’s side twisting her hips outward, then stepped back to face Lexa, and then to her other side, twisting away again. Each time, their joined hands pulled tight against Costia’s stomach. Lexa wondered whether Costia was purposefully leaning into the contact, or if it was an overly hopeful imagination.

 

“I can’t twist like that right now.”

Costia nodded. “We’ll have to practice again sometime, then.” Lexa let her smile widen slightly. Encouraged, Costia added, “Try the steps?”

Lexa nodded and when the beat dipped and repeated, she stepped forward into Costia’s space. Costia stepped as well. The combination of movement pulled their arms across each other’s chests. The contact almost made Lexa forget the pain just below it. She followed Costia through the steps a few times until Costia stopped at the end of a cycle and raised the hand she held Lexa’s in. Her other hand reached towards Lexa’s hip. Lexa’s heart jumped into her throat, quick enough that she knew her face gave away the reaction that shot through her already tensed and over sensitive body.

“Now you spin,” Costia said as her hand brushed just below Lexa’s waistline, resting there gently, carefully avoiding the wound she knew was nearby. It was all too soft. Lexa felt her face heat up. She quickly took a half step back and pulled her hand out of Costia’s.

“Why do I spin?”

“Because I’m leading.” Lexa cocked an eyebrow. Costia tipped her face up to meet the challenge, grinning slightly. “Because I’m the one who knows the dance, and it’s easier to teach when I’m leading. Unless you’d like to show me the rest of the steps?”

Lexa tilted her head to examine Costia sidelong. With one hand still half extended, Costia shrugged insistently and gave a fast shake of her head to hurry Lexa’s decision, as if she knew that Lexa was going to retake her proffered hand and she just wanted to get on with it.

And Lexa did.

She stepped forward to let Costia’s hand graze her hip and guide her forward into a slow spin. She let Costia push her gently one way and then another through the next steps, demonstrating each part first. She stopped trying to explain, just showing Lexa what to do once or twice and guiding her through slow imitation.

Patux ended the song - whether it was meant to end or she decided she’d given Costia whatever it was she asked for, Lexa didn’t know. But Lexa realized as she stepped back into the starting position, facing Costia, that she had pushed herself, and she would regret it when her senses were no longer dulled. She brought her hand up to her side and breathed deeply.

“Too much?” Lexa felt Costia’s concern in her voice, though she couldn’t bring herself to look at her face while she knew the pain was so evident on her own. Suddenly, Costia’s hand was back on her uninjured side, sliding to wrap around and rest on her back, and she was tugging her as if still guiding her through new steps to sit down on her bed. Lexa let her, and chanced a glance at Costia’s face as they walked to the darker side of the room. Her expression was a mystery.

They settled on what were starting to feel like “their” sides of the bed - Lexa leaning against the headboard, and Costia leaning against the foot.

“Do you want to know the origin of that dance?” Costia asked without making eye contact. She ran her fingers curiously down the edge of one of the furs she was seated on. Lexa nodded. “It’s based on a very old story about a pair of twins, a girl and boy, who get shipwrecked and separated on a shore they don’t recognize. The girl goes to a powerful man in the country to beg for work as a servant, and he ends up sending her to court a woman for him. The woman falls in love with the girl instead, though, and the girl loves her back but doesn’t want to betray the man’s trust. So she keeps trying to help him win the woman’s heart, and teaches him that dance to impress her. But the woman sees through it…” Costia paused to take a breath and remember the next part of the story.

“Eventually the man realizes why he can’t win over this woman and sends the girl on a mission to a city far away where she discovers that her brother isn’t dead as she thought he was. He’s not doing too well so she suggests that her brother impersonate her and return to the man, with a confession that he dressed as a girl to win the man’s trust, and an offer to continue to work for him if his services are required. Which the man accepts because it makes him feel better that he wasn’t bested in love by a woman. The girl goes back to the woman and confesses her love, and proves herself by asking the woman to dance the dance she taught the man. It ends happily.”

Lexa listened. Her brow furrowed slowly. When Costia was finished, she sat still for a moment. “Parts of that story do not make sense to me.”

“It’s an old story. From a different time.”

Lexa yawned. “That is clear.”

Costia laughed through her own answering yawn. “I’m also not the one to tell it well. If you want the whole story, ask Patux. She can tell a story like no other.”

“Will it make more sense?”

Costia twisted her face in thought. “Possibly not, but the words will be pretty enough that you might not care.” Lexa nodded at that, but in her mind wondered if it was true. Could pretty words cover a lack of logic? After a few moments’ thought she decided that the answer was certainly yes, at least for some people.

Looking up, Costia’s head was tipped back against the footboard, dark hair splayed over her shoulders and starting to fall away from where she had tucked it behind one ear. Her breathing was slowing. Her chest rose and fell shallowly, shown mostly by the still hand that was draped over her stomach. The other hand rested on the bed next to her, and dangerously close to Lexa’s foot. Almost as if she had been considering reaching out for contact before alcohol and exhaustion got the better of her.

Lexa let her eyes close as well but didn’t sleep.

After a few minutes, she felt Costia’s weight shift so slightly that it was almost nothing - she picked her head up, perhaps, or rolled her shoulders. Then, softly, Lexa felt a weight rest on her ankle, and Costia’s fingers dance along the bone there before settling curled around it gently, unassumingly.

Then, a whisper so low she almost couldn’t hear it: “Reshop, ain Heda.”

The last thing Lexa remembered of the night was concentrating on everything that was different in her tent than usual, and trying to commit it all to memory: the playful murmurs of conversation drifting across the tent, Patux’s soft experimenting on her flute, and the sleeping weight of Costia’s hand on her ankle.


	5. Seventh Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa sets her sights on the azgedakru, and has to choose who will join her. Which should be easy, right?

Lexa walked stiffly into her room. Ryken followed her closely. As soon as the tent’s canvas door fell closed behind him, he stepped to her side and took some of her weight. Helping her lower herself to the edge of her bed slowly, he knelt and looked up into her face sympathetically. She let him. She held his gaze and breathed deeply until her eyes slid closed. She didn't let go of his arm.

“Muchof, Ryken.” Worry was etched into her brow. “I need to eat with my people tonight. I've been gone too long.”

Ryken nodded. It was true. Worried murmurs had been coursing through the camp, and seeing the commander limp around all day - however stoically - had only shifted the subject.

Breaking his gaze, Lexa reached across her body and squeezed Ryken’s arm in thanks and dismissal. He read her focus turning inward and stood and walked out of the tent. Lexa heard him pause at the exit. She didn’t turn to see why. She didn’t need to see another pitying face today. She sighed and listened to him step outside.

Left to her own thoughts, Lexa covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply. The day hadn’t been terrible, but she was in more pain than she wanted to be, and the fact that she couldn’t crawl into bed immediately and stop moving for eight hours or more was hard to accept.

The clan leaders had been on shockingly good behavior all day. There had been something reverent in their silence when she spoke, something careful about their disagreements with each other and with her. When she entered the war tent congratulating them for the success of the rescue mission, there was nothing insincere about the pride in their response.

It was a specific congratulations. None of the reapers so far had been saved, and the healers were becoming frustrated with the amount of sleeping tonic it took to keep them calm. They twitched and sweated and vomited - one had choked himself with bile before the healers realized that was a concern. When Lexa had appeared that morning at the tents, the woman in charge approached her with apology in her eyes.

“We're still losing them, Heda,” she said shaking her head hopelessly. “We've tried everything we know how to do, and they aren't coming back. I begin to wonder…” She looked up at Lexa with fear in her eyes. Lexa urged her to continue with a twitch of her eyebrows. “I begin to wonder if the people we knew still exist in these bodies. It seems like the Mountain Men stole their souls.” The woman searched Lexa’s eyes before finishing. “All they do is resist us.”

Lexa sat in bed and remembered vividly the emptiness in the air around that woman. She hadn't slept enough, clearly, and had been doing everything she could to help the rescued reapers. Mostly that seemed to mean keeping them calm, which required sedatives beyond what the clans were normally required to produce. In just three days they had lost a total of four reapers. One was to suffocation, but the other three died all in a similar way: seizure and frothing at the mouth, until the body went limp and fought no more.

It weighed on her heart that she would be leaving Trikru lands soon, and travelling too far to receive messages about the project’s progress, but she had to move on. Her part had been completed. It was in the hands of the healers now.

She had proposed to the clan leaders (they had been joined by the ambassadors to Polis from the Aleykru and Meidalkru at Lexa’s request, which was the closest she could get to all eight clan leaders on short notice) that the Azgedakru should be the next clan to join the coalition. Their queen, Nia, was the most reluctant to accept Lexa’s offers for peace and responded the most aggressively, as if it offended her that Lexa wanted to increase peace in the lands and foster cooperation. As if it offended her that Lexa thought she could bring them all together, not for the sake of gaining power but for the advancement of all the people.

As if it threatened her that Lexa was succeeding.

So, to avoid further offending or threatening her, Lexa brought to the clan leaders the beginning of a plan. She hoped to travel to the Azgeda’s capital, Treal, with a small group of ambassadors from each of the united clans. These ambassadors together could offer her a temporary alliance, which would hopefully be the first step towards a ninth clan in the coalition. Lexa hoped that the offer coming from all eight clans would flatter her into accepting.

The clan leaders, worried for the group’s safety, suggested that a warrior be sent from each of their clans as well. Lexa hated the idea but heard out their arguments. They all believed it to be the best option, and when even Luna admitted that Nia was volatile enough to warrant a guard, Lexa relented with the stipulation that she would chose all eight of the guard members and they would not necessarily represent all eight clans. She announced this in such a way that ended the discussion of safety.

The rest of the day had been spent discussing which ambassadors would be best to send. Some of the clans had multiple people who were either qualified or had connections to Azgedakru that would make gaining an audience with Nia easier. Lexa also insisted that for this particular mission, the clan leaders must be able to personally vouch for their ambassador’s character, and requested that they consider people who may not necessarily be officially qualified if they possessed qualities of personality that might help win over the queen or the people she ruled.

Putting together a group of eight ambassadors who would complement each other’s strengths made the discussions last until the sun was sinking into the western horizon. Lexa would have final say, but she wanted to hear the leader’s opinions of their ambassadors, especially the ones who suggested people she didn't know.

What made the day fly for Lexa was one of Luna’s three suggestions for the Floukru ambassador. Her first was the ambassador to the coalition who lived in Polis: an aging sailor who had helped Lexa and Luna come to an agreement when Floukru joined the coalition. The second was a storyteller from the easternmost parts of Floukru territory who represented the towns there when they had grievances to bring to the capital.

“The third person I suggest is a teacher and is skilled at political persuasion. She has been working all her life to be trusted with the honor of advising leaders in various parts of our lands.” Luna paused and looked slowly around the table, meeting each person’s eyes as she continued. “I assure you all that my judgement of this young woman's skills has been no less lenient than it has of any of my people - if anything, she needs to be more successful than her peers to gain less advancement.”

As Luna had been speaking and Lexa realized slowly who she was describing, conflicting synapses started firing in her brain that had it short-circuiting. Thrill and dread rushed through her towards each other, colliding in her knees and stomach and behind her eyes.

Sumter was smirking across the table at Luna. “Get on with it and suggest your niece, Luna.” Lexa was suddenly grateful for the distraction his snark caused. 

“The third person I suggest is Costia,” Luna concluded, pretending to ignore Sumter as she pushed a round blue Floukru chip with Costia’s insignia on it to the center of the table, to join the other two blue chips, three golden chips, and three black chips which had already been presented.

Lexa gathered herself quickly and nodded. “Thank you, Luna. Sumter, since you have so much to say, share with us who you suggest as ambassador from the Southlands.”

Sumter suggested two people Lexa expected and one she didn’t know well. Indra’s surprise suggestion was Lincoln. The River Clan ambassador would be a stranger to Lexa no matter which of the suggestions was chosen.

Twenty-four chips were pushed around and rearranged countless times throughout the day. Mostly the discussions were civil. Twice, Raleg pulled a knife when Sumter reached to rearrange chips before someone was done making an argument, but Lexa only had to glare at both of them to stop them in their tracks. She hoped their obedience came from more than pity. She didn't dwell on the thought.

In her room later, alone, Lexa pulled the bag of twenty-four chips from her belt. She pulled them from the bag and carefully let them roll out of her fist onto the table. She looked at each of them and tried to curb the exhaustion that these decisions were causing her. Slowly she reached out. The first chip she touched was Lincoln’s. She pushed it forward, out of the group of twenty four. That was the easiest of all her decisions. She knew the Trikru choices best. Lincoln’s easy going temperament and curious nature were exactly what she needed on this mission. If he could learn a little confidence to influence the other ambassadors, she felt certain he could be her strongest ally among them. The other two green chips went back into the bag. 

The next she chose was from the River Clan. Since she knew none of them, the one who seemed to fit into the most arrangements of chips was pushed up next to Lincoln’s, and the other two navy chips went into the bag.

Her fingers hovered over the blue chip that held Costia’s sign. Lexa pursed her lips and sighed as she pulled back her hand and rested it on the edge of the table.

Before she could get any farther, Ryken stepped halfway through the door. She left the chips scattered across her table and followed him to the large tent at the center of camp for a dinner she wasn't hungry for.

\---

Lexa could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes watching her throughout dinner. It shouldn’t have made her so uncomfortable. She was accustomed to being the focus of attention everywhere she went, and though it was never something she could forget, it had become normal enough that it never phased her anymore. Tonight, though, she could feel something heavy about the gazes and glances. It was as if everyone was waiting for something to happen. Whether that something was her dropping dead, or suddenly jumping up and telling them she was miraculously healed, she wasn’t sure.

To be fair, they probably had never seen her in this much pain, or so obviously injured. A bullet wound was serious. If they were surprised she was alive, she didn’t blame them.

People in Lexa’s position usually didn’t last long.

She understood their concern. That didn’t stop it from placing a weight on her heart.

She ate fast but she ate little. Her appetite was small. She drank nothing but water. She moved with intention. She hoped these things returned confidence to her people.

After she was done eating, she leaned back in her chair and half-listened to Gustus and Anya argue across her chest about the advantages of different types of weapons against each other - sword against staff, staff against knives, knives against throwing stars. The argument more accentuated their different styles of fighting than proved anything about the superiority of any particular weapon, but it moved quickly and Lexa found herself continuing to tune back in whenever she got distracted.

Most of the distractions involved letting her mind wander to the events of previous night (how different this night was) and letting her eyes roam over the long tables full of her armies. She spotted Costia quickly. Patux sat to her left and Dela sat across from her, squeezed between Lincoln and Nyko. The first time Lexa got distracted watching them, Patux was giving the other four some account that had them all enraptured between fits of laughing. The second time, Lincoln and Nyko were disagreeing about something that had Dela making faces at the two women across from her, who refused to offer her any sympathy. The third time, Dela seemed to be explaining something to a skeptical Patux with the support of Lincoln. Nyko and Costia were watching Patux’s confused reactions with similar small smiles.

And then Costia turned her head just slightly to look across the room to Lexa. Lexa felt her cheeks flush, but decided not to try to hide that she had been watching. Costia, however, visibly inhaled and looked down at her food as soon as their eyes met. Lexa felt the corner of her mouth tick into a barely perceptible smile in response to Costia’s shyness, despite the concerns . Unfortunately for Lexa, Anya was practiced in reading all of Lexa’s expressions, a strong majority of which were barely perceptible. She didn't notice the sudden quiet between her neighbors, and jumped just slightly when Anya leaned over and spoke quietly in her ear.

“What’re you grinning at?”

Lexa let the ghost smile drop from her face and turned quickly to look at Anya, then Gustus, who had turned to focus on his food with eyebrows raised.

Something stirred in Lexa's chest suddenly, and something clicked on her mind. She looked at Gustus. He continued to pointedly not look back at her. “I'd like your advice, Gustus. Tomorrow. Regarding the guard I'm bringing to Treal.” She emphasized the words “tomorrow” and “guard,” trying to communicate both that she respected his advice and that it was not to be given uncalled for. “I cannot afford to bring anyone who is anything less than completely behind my plans.”

Gustus nodded and scanned the room, flinching in the smallest way. He heard the message she was sending between the lines.

She stood slowly, successfully masking the pain with intentional movement. Ryken appeared at her side and she looked to Anya and Gustus in turn. Gustus offered her a small head bow as goodnight. Anya offered her a wink as good luck. Lexa let the ghost smile tick back onto her mouth for Anya and walked away.

\---

Gustus leaned across Lexa’s empty chair. Quietly he remarked to Anya, “Titus will not be happy with this development.”

“There is a reason the fleimkepa does not come to war, Gustus, and it is that normal rules do not always apply in these situations.”

“You can tell as well as I can that this is not that kind of acceptable exception…”

Anya sighed. “Let the yongon be happy, for a minute, Gustus.”

“Em laik no yongon noumou.”

Anya’s eyes glazed over. She stared unfocusing at her plate. Luna, seated across from her, looked at her carefully and reached across the table to place a hand on Anya’s, resting next to her cup.

“If anyone is strong enough to win the fight against how things have always been done, and live to tell the tale, Anya, it is her.”

Anya’s mouth stretched into a thin, worried line as she looked up at Luna. “I hope you’re right.”

Gustus, observing the interaction, offered, “She hasn’t lost yet, but she toes a dangerous line.”

Luna turned to him. “You toe a dangerous line, between her and the fleimkepa, no? We all take risks, make choices. The least you can do for your Heda is trust that she has the judgement to make the right ones.”

Gustus turned away from her gaze. He searched the tent. Lexa was gone, and the section of table that she had been gazing foolishly at earlier was suddenly empty. He hoped, for Lexa’s sake, that Luna was right.

\---

Patux rose from her seat at Lexa’s desk, where she and Costia were squeezed together flipping through a sketchbook - one of the three books Lexa carried with her wherever she could. “I should go. I promised someone I’d visit them tonight, and I have to keep up my reputation. You know. As a woman of my word.”

Costia threw her head back in laughter. “Sha, pleiya,” she teased Patux proudly as her laughter slowed.

“Speak for yourself, Cos,” Patux shot back with a wide smile and a wink. She looked to Lexa quickly, who was standing at the table in the center of the room and pouring over a map of the northern rivers. Without letting her smile fade, Patux bent her head in respect and excused herself. “Muchof for your hospitality Heda, as always.”

“Good night, Patux.” Lexa schooled her features into political friendliness. Inside, her heart hammered against her ribs in response to the tacit communication that had just passed (and perhaps continued with every bit of eye contact) between the two Floukru women.

Costia pointedly watched Patux leave. Lexa watched her watch Patux leave, and saw the way her spine shifted just slightly straighter before too-intentionally restoring to the relaxed, confident, slightly slumped posture she’d fallen into naturally when it had been three of them. She looked over her shoulder at Lexa. “Should I go? I can. I know you need to sleep.”

Lexa turned back to the map to hide the flush creeping up her neck and answered without making eye contact. “Not if you’re interested in the rest of that sketchbook. You have not seen the best ones. Whoever drew all that learned much from beginning to end.” She heard Costia turn in her chair and lean forward. They fell into comfortable quiet, only interrupted by the intermittent rustle of paper against paper. Crickets hummed outside the tent, and nighttime human sounds drifted through camp.

Lexa let her eyes wander over the maps she was leaning on, but she had stopped considering different routes a while ago. Her thoughts now drifted to the chips that still lay scattered across the opposite side of the table, and hovered around a specific one of those chips. She wanted very much to slide Costia’s chip next to Lincoln’s. The motion would be so quick, and it would make all of the other choices so much easier. Those three chips of all twenty-four were the most compatible with any arrangement of the others. They had the least negative characteristics that could cause problems on the trip north, compared to the others. They didn’t rule out anyone else.

So why was Lexa hesitating?

She looked across the room at Costia’s back, neck bent forward as she examined a detailed drawing. Lexa recognized the drawing as third from last. Soon they would have no more excuses not to talk and ignore the building tension.

Lexa knew that tension was the precise reason why she was hesitating. Costia was compatible with all the people who might go on this mission, except for Lexa.

Luna’s words echoed in Lexa’s mind suddenly: “She is practiced in political persuasion.” Lexa knew Costia was clever with words and well-spoken. If she could assuage Lexa’s fears, perhaps that would prove she wouldn’t be such a dangerous choice. At least it would indicate that she would be useful.

Dangerously useful. Dangerously persuasive.

The challenge thrilled Lexa in a way that could have been good or bad.

Lexa waited until Costia slowly closed the sketchbook and leaned back in her seat before speaking. “Costia.”

Costia turned in her chair and looked to Lexa with an open expression. “Luna has recommended that you join our mission to invite the Azgeda into the coalition.”

Costia seemed not to expect the information, but shook off her surprise and answered with pride so thick she almost sneered, “Well obviously. I could talk a fish out of water if I tried hard enough.” She stood as she spoke and crossed the room to lean against the adjacent side to Lexa’s.

Lexa shook her head. “That seems implausible.”

“You know I'm not exaggerating. Much,” Costia drawled with one eyebrow cocked.

Lexa held her challenging gaze for just long enough to communicate that she did not appreciate the insinuation.

“I am considering,” Lexa paused to emphasize that no decision had been made, and continued, “that this small group of politically minded warriors I gather must be chosen with no bias to whom I would personally get along best with, but only with consideration to the skills of those who are my options.” Lexa paused again, this time to find the best way to say the next thing she needed to say. She knew she was walking a line between honesty and discretion, both politically and personally. For a moment she doubted that she needed to say anything - that she should make this decision first and simply present Costia with her fate. But she had already begun, and she wasn’t sure Costia couldn’t see through the masks she wore to give orders.

“I have no doubt that you are persuasive, Costia, but it does me no good to choose some people I am closer to than others. I need a group of people who will not cause trouble between each other during the long journey north, and if any of my people expect preference, it is bound to lead to trouble.”

Costia’s eyes had narrowed. Her posture changed from swaggering to stiff and straight-backed. She frowned slightly deeper when Lexa let slip the word “preference.”

“I need to know that you will respect me as Heda if I ask you to join me on this mission.”

Costia responded quickly, defensively. “I respect you as Heda.” But then strong emotions flickered across her face and she seemed slightly confused by whatever she was thinking. She looked up at Lexa and held her gaze for so long that Lexa began to wonder whether she was going to continue. She focused on breathing evenly as her heart beat the moments away. Finally, Costia blinked and let her expression fall from disconcerted to determined. She squared her shoulders and took a breath.

“Luna recommended me: choose me for that reason, Heda. Please, let me use my skills. Let me give my strengths for this coalition. For peace. For my family and my clan and my children.” She paused. “For my commander.”

Lexa turned away at the last words.

“Unless it is you who cannot respect me as a subject.”

Lexa turned back to her at the accusatory remark, but Costia was disappointment personified. Her shoulders had fallen, and argument was gone. “I’m sorry for saying that. All my life Luna has held things from me that I know she would have offered if I had been anyone else. I understand it,” she quickly amended, “but it means I know how to play this game - separating a single person into two: the leader I serve without question, and the person I -” she cut herself off and Lexa noticed her ears turning pink. “And anything personal.”

Lexa watched her struggle not to say more than she felt she had to. “I'll respect whatever decision you make, Heda. And I would be honored to be chosen.”

Lexa said nothing. What was there to say? Costia looked up at her, then bowed quickly and didn't meet her eyes again as she turned and walked out of the tent, only pausing at the door to square her shoulders and lift her chin high. It was a move Lexa recognized instantly. How many times had she gathered herself in such a way before standing to address another clan’s leader or an antagonistic subject? Countless times.

Lexa stood rooted to the spot long after the tent door settled closed, staring at the ground Costia had occupied. She knew that if she could trust herself, she could trust Costia. She knew the moment she watched Costia put on a mask that she recognized far too well.

She reached across the table and pushed one blue chip forward.


	6. Twelfth Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before the party leaves for Treal.
> 
> Or:
> 
> “You two are more obvious than rabbits in spring,” he said so only they could hear.
> 
> “Lincoln, I could have your tongue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the people who seem to be following this, it delights me that you like it!
> 
> I am trying to do updates every other week, but I also want it to be good and my "real" work does not leave me with free time consistently. So it will be less often than that sometimes, more often other times. Bear with me?

It took five days to send the armies home in an orderly manner. Most of the clan leaders left with the first parts of their armies. They all had domestic matters to return to, and through none seemed anxious, Lexa didn't like to ask for more than she needed from them. Her injury had already kept them away from home for longer than she felt comfortable with.

She used the time to oversee final arrangements for the journey north. A route had to be chosen. Supplies had to be gathered. Some of the ambassadors had to be sent for. The ambassadors from the farther clans would meet them on the way north. Messengers had been sent to Ash kom Ayelkru and Breikan kom Maidelkru asking to meet them halfway to Treal since the journeys from their nations to Trikru lands were five days at least, and in the opposite direction of Treal.

Many of the party was already at camp. The first to officially be there for the sake of the Azgeda mission was DePol, who had come north with Sumter as his secretary. Lexa knew him from when she had traveled with Sumter before the clans had united. He had all of Sumter’s snark and sarcasm, but ten more years of experience. He had been a warrior until he lost a foot to an infected wound. He once had explained to Lexa, in a moment of pure sincerity when she was frustrated by Sumter’s need for war, that when Sumter lost part of himself to war he would understand why uniting the clans was so important. Six months later, Sumter’s brother fell in battle, and when Lexa arrived at his body’s burning, she met DePol’s eyes over the fire and knew that Sumter’s loss was everyone’s gain, however heartbreaking that might be.

Sumter’s army was the first to leave the area. DePol’s living arrangements were moved nearer to Lexa’s tent as their military arrangements were packed up. Being first, he was set up directly next to Lexa’s tent. Lincoln, from her own clan, moved next and was set up on her other side. After five days there was a short line of tents on the east edge of the suddenly very empty, trampled clearing.

Lexa stood outside her tent gazing into the sunset, across the silhouetted figures of her ambassadors and the guard tossing wood into an ash-filled firepit. They had grown close quickly. She could see Lincoln lean against the River Clan ambassador, Sylva, as she said something quietly into his ear and dumped a pile of kindling into his arms. He shook his head and a bark of laughter echoed across the clearing. Mercer, from Raleg’s nation, DePol and Costia were seated on a log with the newest arrival from the Swamp Clan, Lof. He was explaining something to the three of them that had them occasionally nodding in understanding.

Another loud, sharp laugh drew Lexa’s attention from the firepit. Sylva and Lincoln had crossed to the northern edge of the clearing and were taking logs from Patux, Dela and a third member of the guard from Wodatrikru. The laugh was Patux’s - Lincoln had apparently passed on whatever it was Sylva said to make him laugh. The sound calmed Lexa’s nerves and she took a breath to expel the stress that had been steadily bubbling in her chest as their departure approached. Sylva was a good choice.

She had arrived three days before, Lonwoda lands being only a day’s journey northeast. She was as tall and composed as Lexa had expected, bowing deeply, answering questions simply, and speaking only when spoken to. The Lonwoda queen had described her as a listener and observer. Lexa had limited time to meet with her but noticed that she almost immediately took to Lincoln. Despite the twelve years Sylva had on Lincoln, they found humor in similar things and friends in each other. Though Lexa rarely saw them actually talking, they stood quietly around camp in their free time brushing shoulders and watching the goings-on, if they weren’t helping others move out.

Lexa breathed deeply watching them stride easily together across the field, their shadows stretching out towards her. It was a beautiful picture and Lexa let herself soak in the wonderful simplicity of it.

Ryken stood next to her and every once in awhile glanced across at her. She could feel him resting his content on hers. It was her favorite part of command, when she could offer confidence and peace to her people, especially those closest to her.

As she watched them arrive at the fire pit where Costia was blowing life into a smoking ball of kindling, the final four members of the guard emerged from the eastern edge of the clearing, behind Lexa’s tent. They walked single file between Lexa’s tent and DePol’s. Gustus, first in line, motioned for the other three to continue towards the fire with four skinned rabbits. He stopped next to Lexa and followed her gaze to the firepit. They watched silently together.

“The road will be dangerous, Heda, and the destination more so,” Gustus began quietly. “This group is so young. They do not know.”

“They know, Gustus. They all chose to fulfill my request to be here. I did not coerce them. They all know the danger and yet they are here.”

“They do not act like they know the gravity of this mission, or the importance of their success.”

“It takes experience to understand gravity, and yes, many of them lack that. It is why I chose them.”

“Heda-”

“Gustus.” Lexa turned to her advisor and looked somehow down upon him despite his height. “When I became Heda, do you remember my level of experience?”

Gustus clenched his jaw. “You were bound to die that day.”

“Yes, bound to die, but I didn’t.” Lexa returned to gazing across the field. “I became Heda because of my inexperience, because I was not bound to the pillars of success that all of the others were. I was only bound to death, which is precisely how I escaped it.” Gustus bowed his head and shook it imperceptibly at her stubbornness. “These men and women are not bound to the gravity of this situation and I chose them because what I need now is people who are not bound so tightly to gravity that they cannot move but stay rooted where they stand.”

Patux’s voice rose across the distance. “Come eat, Heda!”

Lexa checked whether Gustus was hearing her. He appeared frustrated enough that she assumed he was. She strode forward and walked slowly towards the now roaring fire and roasting rabbits. Gustus followed a safe number of steps behind with Ryken at his side.

\---

Lexa put down her empty plate and looked around at the group, the firelight casting stronger shadow flickers across their faces as the periwinkle glow of twilight faded. Pride expanded again in Lexa’s chest and she sighed to diffuse it. Gustus’ concerns still echoed in her head. The truth was that this group would soon be in real danger, and the purpose of their presence together here could potentially result in a tragic end. After a few minutes composing those thoughts, she stood slowly. The light chatter quieted as the group noticed and looked up to her.

“I’d like to thank you all, before we move out tomorrow morning, for your willingness to leave your homes and families for weeks to bring Azgeda into our coalition. I assure you that should we succeed it will be well worth it.”

She noted the small reactions around the circle: quick nods, heads bowed, and almost smiles from Patux and Dela. It occurred to Lexa that the Floukru part of the group was at least partially responsible for the lighthearted attitude worrying Gustus.

“But whether we succeed or we fail in this mission, I will consider you all from this time onward: my closest allies.”

Mercer spoke up quickly, not needing to raise his deep voice to be heard. “We will not fail you, Heda.”

Lexa nodded in his direction, averting her eyes from his thoughtfully. “I asked each of you to be part of this because you are the type of people who believe that. Not only do I need a group of smart people, but a group of people who have faith in themselves and each other against great odds. Winning over Nia is a challenge I know none of you take lightly.” She paused to confirm that no one’s attention had wavered. “When we reach Treal, we will approach offering peace, and do nothing to offend our hosts. We cannot look at this movement as an attack. We are taking this journey in order to court the Ice Nation.”

DePol, with a raised eyebrow, responded, “Like courting a pauna, eh?”

Costia laughed once. “More like a polar bear.” Patux chuckled beside her, and chimed in, “Because it’s cold up there…”

Lexa counted at least three people rolling their eyes. Dela muttered what they were all thinking. “Patux, you ruined it.”

Lexa glanced at Gustus. His unamused expression helped her keep a straight face. “You will look at this mission, first of all, as a welcome and nothing more. Do not forget: we risk our lives for this.” The chuckles simmered down almost immediately at the tone of her voice. She tried not to sound too berating. Though she took Gustus’ point, she saw a cleverness in this group of young hearts that she thought would be more of a help than a hinderance to the mission, and the last thing she wanted was to crush them.

Lexa looked around the circle with pride, affection, and worry swirling in her chest. “We risk our lives for peace.”

DePol raised his cup. “Sha, Heda. Kik raun feva kom chilnes!”

\---

A handful of the guard had gathered a few feet away from the fire and were smoking something that the wodatrikru guards had carried north with them. Nearly everyone was in deep conversation with their neighbors, either sitting or standing around the fire. Costia was the only quiet one, sitting on a log next to Patux and Dela who were arguing lightly and allowing her to refuse participation in the conversation despite her proximity. Lexa circled the fire slowly with Ryken at her side. When he saw her goal he sucked a breath in through his teeth, gaining her attention. He tipped his head in a half-shake. She turned away as if she hadn’t seen him and sat next to Costia. Costia didn’t look away from the fire, and Patux and Dela didn’t stop their conversation for her presence.

“I’ve missed your company these past few days.”

Lexa watched Costia fight the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she looked over to Lexa from her seat and said with an impressive lack of sarcasm, “I was under the impression that my commander wanted more respect than I could give her with my continued company.”

Lexa clenched her jaw in frustration. It was slightly intimidating how Costia was able to change their relationship so completely. She considered how useful it could be for just half a second before realizing the trajectory of the thought and quickly cutting it off. Two could play this game. She slide closer to Costia and almost leaned into her space.

“I was under the impression that you were able to separate feelings from duty, not permanently bury your feelings for the sake of duty.”

Costia leaned away and had the good sense to let her neutral expression waver. She paused and searched Lexa’s eyes before replying quietly, “I’ve missed your company, too.”

Lexa nodded slowly. A request began to formulate in her throat, but before she could get it out, Costia spoke again apologetically, “But I don’t know how to trust you.”

“What?”

“I compared you to Luna before. But it’s not the same. You have more power and you are not family.”

Lexa broke eye contact to scan their surroundings. The nature of their conversation seemed to be safe from eavesdroppers, but she knew they couldn’t continue on this topic without more privacy. She stood casually.

“Come with me?”

Costia hesitated but stood.

Suddenly, Lincoln and Sylva stood between them. They appeared to be in a good mood and at first Lexa’s anger flared at their obliviousness, but when she caught Lincoln’s eye she realized it was an intentional interruption.

“You two are more obvious than rabbits in summer,” he said so only they could hear.

“Lincoln, I could have your tongue.”

“It would be given in service to you, Heda, if you at least heeded what I said too boldly.”

Sylva quickly interrupted the anger slipping into his tone. “What Lincoln meant to offer, Heda, is an escort to avoid suspicion.”

Costia spoke up before Lexa could threaten any other body parts. She addressed Sylva but kept her eyes trained pointedly on Lexa. “I would appreciate the escort, Sylva.” Her assertion had the intended effect of drawing Lexa’s surprised attention. “They’re right. Private conversations are dangerous.” Lexa wondered for a moment whether Costia meant something more than what she’d said, wondered whether the danger Costia referenced came from outside as Sylva and Lincoln were implying, or if for Costia it came from Lexa as well.

Taken aback by the thought, Lexa turned on her heel and marched toward her tent, immediately spotting Ryken standing a distance behind them, watching like a guilty puppy. As she swept past him without making eye contact, Lincoln hurried up and fell into step with her. “We want to help you, Heda.” He spoke quietly and directly to her, and his words were edged with insistent pleading rather than anger.

His sincerity placated the heat rushing through her head. “I know.”

She let him walk next to her across the dark field and held the tent open so he knew to follow her inside. She quickly lit a cluster of candles at the center of her desk to brighten the space.

Before either of them could say anything, Costia swept in with a concerned-looking Sylva at her heels. “Here’s why I’ve been avoiding you: You do not know Floukru customs and I fear what will happen when I offend you, because you have no reason not to throw me aside if I fall out of your favor.”

Lexa was not expecting an outburst and had no response. Costia turned to Lincoln and continued.

“Lincoln, we’ve talked some, haven’t we, about the differences between Floukru and Trikru ideas of relationships?” Lincoln nodded. “Trikru take one partner at a time, and idealize marriage, that’s what I’ve learned. Floukru have different ideas. Lincoln and I have talked extensively about the positive and negative aspects of both cultures, and there are things we still disagree about.” Lexa glanced at Lincoln, who looked slightly mortified and was avoiding eye contact with everyone in the tent. Sylva seemed to enjoy watching him struggle. 

Lexa had a vague notion of what Costia meant. Floukru customs had been spoken of disparagingly when she was a child. Such cultural misunderstandings were the hardest thing to end as Lexa tried to bring the clans closer. 

Her attention returned to Costia quickly. “Those were hard conversations to have, and I don’t even have any personal stake in our coming to agreement. Now how hard is it going to be when I have to have those conversations and it matters?” She shook her head and laughed sadly. “The idea that every person only needs one other person for all their life that Trikru find so romantic? That’s a joke to Floukru. It has never been part of my future.”

Lexa finally interrupted at that thought. Though the Trikru customs Costia had described were true, Lexa felt far from them. She’d been sworn off relationships before she had wanted one. As Heda, the Trikru customs were irrelevant to her own personal life. It was expected that she would remain independent for the sake of her responsibility.

“That idea has never been part of my future, either.”

Costia blinked and stopped with her mouth half-open. “What?”

“Trikru custom, Floukru custom. it does not matter to the commander. We are taught to live our lives alone.”

Costia looked hurt suddenly. She spoke softer than before. “Then, why do you…”

Lexa refused to answer the unfinished question. Sylva, who had sat quietly at Lexa’s death, suggested when Lexa didn’t respond, “How many of her decisions as Heda have followed tradition, Costia?”

Costia’s brow furrowed in frustration. “I don’t know what you want.”

The answer was so complicated that Lexa almost laughed at the simplicity of the question. I want you to trust me. I want you not to worry about what I expect of you. I want you to be happy and safe. I want to be the thing that makes you feel happy and safe. I want not to have all this responsibility which is keeping me from you, and you from me.

But that last one wasn’t completely true. Complicated.

“I want you to put more faith in me than you are right now.”

Costia looked skeptical. “Faith?” Lexa nodded. “I can’t, just… without reason. I can’t.”

Lexa knew the feeling bubbling in her chest, but she’d never felt it this strong before. It was similar to the first time she’d caused disappointment in Anya’s eyes, or the first time Sumter had laughed at her idea of a coalition. It was rejection, and it hurt.

It hurt but she understood.

Costia sighed. “I have to in some ways. I put faith in you every day. I have chosen to follow you farther north than anyone I know has ever gone.” She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her hip out and tilting her head to consider Lexa.

“But these ‘feelings’ I’m - we’re-” (she blushed as she replaced the word) “-keeping separate from our purpose here - I’m not sure what they mean. So I need to know, before we leave tomorrow, that you will not expect any more from me than I offer, and if what I offer is not enough for you that you’ll be able to separate your feelings from duty enough to treat me like anyone else here.” Costia looked at the ground. “I can’t promise you anything.”

“Of course not. I could not ask of you more than you offer.” Lexa pulled her chin back slightly so that she was effectively looking up to Costia and waited to see if it had the calming effect she intended. Costia returned her gaze in a way that unnerved her. She felt searched. Suddenly, Costia surged forward into her space and wrapped her arms around her neck.

DePol and Mercer’s voices carried into the tent as they approached, calling goodnight to Nyko and Patux who were taking the first guard. Everyone fell quiet at the sound, and Costia pulled back from embracing Lexa before she could return the gesture. Quiet settled in Lexa’s tent with a feeling of finality.

Costia broke the silence first. “I should get to my own quarters.” Lexa nodded her dismissal and tried to hide her disappointment. She knew Costia could see it. She didn’t watch Costia turn and walk outside, and therefore missed the look that passed between Lincoln and Sylva before Sylva also walked out, alone.

“Heda,” Lincoln began softly, waiting for permission to continue.

“Yes, Lincoln?” she sighed in response. She didn’t turn to face him. She looked to the ceiling in exhaustion as she said his name, sincerely hoping that she had enough patience for whatever it was he needed to say to her. She regretted snapping at him once tonight.

“I…” Lincoln paused, searching for words. Lexa turned to face him. The care with which he was trying to express himself drew her attention and won her respect. He took a breath and began again, searching her eyes as he spoke. “I am bound to you by Trikru blood, and by duty, and by my own promise.” He nodded as a question, and she mirrored his gesture to confirm her understanding before he continued. “But I am also bound to you by a vow I made to Luna four days ago.” He pulled off his right glove to show her his bandaged palm.

“What vow?”

“She asked me to protect Costia and you, if this mission goes awry. She asked me if your affection put this coalition at risk that I would stand by you both, and fight for Floukru and Trikru as one people.”

Lexa let a measure of her confusion show on her face. “Floukru and Trikru are not one people…”

Lincoln nodded. “I did not understand.”

Lexa shook her head. “That could never happen, Lincoln. The clans are their own. They would never consent to a union like that.”

Lincoln nodded again with a shrug and continued without explaining. “She also told me to do everything I could to keep you from a position that would force you to choose between the coalition or the mission and Costia, but-” Lexa’s eyes had turned cold.

“Why would she imagine those situations, and tell you how to act in each of them?”

“Because they are all possible, and because she trusts me. And she trusts you.” Lincoln took a cautious half-step forward. “She did not want to let you have Costia for this mission. She is the closest thing Luna has to a daughter; her sister’s child. But she trusts you. She trusts you so much that the last thing she made me promise was that if it came down to it, I should protect the coalition and go on with the mission rather than protect Costia.” The fury that had been gathering in Lexa’s throat dried up and she snapped her mouth closed in surprise. “I made the vow, because my loyalty to you and this coalition supercedes my loyalty to my friends who are Floukru. But.” He paused. “My bond to you extends to Costia if you say so.”

Lexa closed her eyes. “I will not ask you to vow to me what you vowed to Luna.” When she opened her eyes, though, Lincoln was already kneeling.

“I do not offer you what I promised Luna.” For a moment Lexa lost her ability to keep her mouth completely closed. “I, Lincoln kom Trikru, vow to you, Heda, Lexa kom Trikru, to protect Costia kom Floukru’s life as I protect yours.”

Lexa stared at him for a moment, half shocked and half considering. 

Slowly she pulled her knife from her belt, and keeping her eyes on Lincoln’s, dragged the blade across her right palm. She offered it to Lincoln hilt first, who stood and took it and pulled the bandage off his hand before repeating the gesture. 

As they clasped hands and let their mixed blood drip to the ground, Lexa promised herself never to threaten any of Lincoln’s body parts again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm making a lot of this up, so for reference, the members of the group (and the eight clans in the coalition at this point):  
> Lincoln - Trikru - Woods Clan  
> Costia - Floukru / Floudon Kru - Boat Clan  
> Sylva - Lonwoda Kru - River Clan  
> DePol - Sowt Kru - South lands   
> Mercer - Moungeda Kru - Hill people  
> Lof - Wodatrikru - Swamp Clan  
> Ash - Aleykru - Isle Clan  
> Breikan - Meidalkru - Iron Clan
> 
> Guard: Gustus, Rykon, Nyko, Patux, Dela, two guys from the Wodatrikru army, one woman from the Lonwodakru army
> 
> I am not caught up past 307 and this is officially canon divergence. I wanted it to stay within canon when I started, but I've now planned out some stuff WAY in the future that makes it definitely NOT canon.
> 
> Holla at me on tumblr: findthebrightplaces


	7. Night One on the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just talking mostly. Just kids sitting around a fire chatting.

Lexa was relieved not to be on a horse. Sitting in a saddle for eight hours even with intermittent periods of walking was extremely painful, but the pace they were keeping meant that they couldn’t be on foot for more than a third of the time. Everyone ached and when the Lonwodakru guard member who was navigating them called a halt for the day, the mood instantly lifted as guard members and ambassadors alike scattered into the overgrown suburb they’d chosen to set up cots, build a fire, and divide out rations of dried fruits and jerky. It was barely any time before they were all spread out in a circle around a fire in front of the crumbling remains of a two-story house, laughing and chatting and fighting exhaustion in favor of each other’s company. Even Gustus seemed almost at ease, thoroughly engaged in his conversation with Mercer.

Patux, Dela, and Costia were trading stretches to Lexa’s right. She sat close to Lincoln and Sylva and watched them push each other’s limbs around. It had started as a legitimate way to ease their aching muscles, but seemed to be devolving into an excuse to touch each other inappropriately. Lexa, Lincoln, and Sylva watched cringing.

Patux was currently on her back, one leg straight in the air and the other resting in the ground. Costia was standing, slowly pushing Patux’s leg past ninety degrees towards her upper body. She seemed to be enjoying the grimace Patux was sporting.

“It feels good, though, right?”

“It feels like you're trying to separate my leg from my ass,” Patux said through gritted teeth. Grinning wider, Costia pushed a little harder. Patux groaned, and Costia let up.

“Me trying to separate your leg from your ass is something else, Tux.”

Dela, sitting next to Patux with her legs bent into a diamond and her elbows pushing her knees to the ground, tapped Patux’s quad. “Keep your knee straight. You're not getting the full stretch.”

Patux shifted but couldn't get her knee straighter. “I'll show you the full stretch…” she muttered. Dela cocked an eyebrow.

“I'll hold you to that.”

Costia laughed and slowly leaned back, lowering Patux’s leg to the ground. “I know you two have an arrangement, but I'm not sure how everyone else around here is gonna feel about waking up in the middle of night to the sounds of you getting each other off. Tight quarters, you know?” She reached for Patux’s other ankle and looked up before lifting. “Ready?”

“Do it.”

“They’ll appreciate it when they realize what a monster Patux is when she doesn’t-”

“Um, excuse me, I’m the monster?” Patux interrupted incredulously. “We started because you couldn't deal with leaving your boy at home when we were called to Tondisi.”

“I was gonna say, ‘when she doesn’t get enough sleep.’ You can't sleep alone. It's mutually beneficial. But if you really want to start throwing low blows...”

Patux twisted her head quickly to look Dela straight in the eyes. “I do not want to trade low blows with you, no, thanks.”

Costia laughed and turned at the sound of the simultaneous laugh Sylva let out. She grinned at the older woman’s interest and registered that her antics with her friends had drawn Lincoln and Lexa’s attention as well. She didn't seem to mind, but Lexa noticed, began to hesitate before every reaction to her friends.

She turned back to Patux and slowly leaned off the pressure on her leg, lowering it halfway to the ground before giving Patux her own weight back. Patux groaned a little. “That felt really good, Cos.”

Dela grinned and laid down. “My turn!” Costia laughed and moved to stand at Dela’s feet. As she picked one leg up, she commented to Patux, “I'm surprised Timin never taught you this. I remember watching him do it at the ends of long days.”

“Oh, me too,” Patux replied. “He was always trying to teach us something, wasn't he?”

Dela nodded against the ground. “I learned all my knots from him.” Patux and Costia nodded in agreement. “And my first lesson in English.”

“We had that one together.”

“How to saddle a horse.”

“How to throw a knife.”

“Fillet a fish.”

The three nodded softly, their smiles fading slowly. Costia let the pressure off Dela’s leg and switched to the other in silence.

“I miss him sometimes,” Patux said softly, glancing between her two friends. They nodded. Costia offered her a sad smile.

Lincoln, from the log where he, Sylva and Lexa had averted their attention to allow them some privacy, asked cautiously, “Who was Timin?”

Costia, Patux and Dela answered simultaneously. “My father.” “A healer from our village.” “Our teacher.”

They looked at each other quickly and tried again. “Patux’s father.” “Our teacher.” “A man who really enjoyed explaining things.”

They grinned. Costia looked at the ground and shook her head in surrender. Dela yawned sleepily and watched Costia lean against her leg. Patux waited to make sure neither of them were going to try to answer again before turning to face Lincoln. “Timin, my father, was a healer, among other things. He was possibly the most extroverted person I’ve ever known. He loved us like crazy when we were little and taught us everything. I think he got a kick out of explaining things to people who could actually needed his explanations. I imagine it would be hard to be an adult with him. Even when we were teenagers it started to get repetitive.” 

Costia interrupted. “It was part of what made him such an amazing healer though. He was fascinated by how things work.”

“I don’t mean it so badly. He couldn’t have been too annoying because he had plenty of friends, and plenty of women loved him.”

Dela let her head fall to the side and made eye contact with Lexa as she re-emphasized Patux’s statement. “Lots of women.” Lexa was tickled by her serious tone. _Such importance placed on partnership, and social competence…_ It was the first thing that struck her about Luna, too, she remembered: her interest and respect for personal relationships. 

Lincoln answered Dela. “I still don’t understand how that didn’t bother them. You make women different in the East.”

Dela shook her head and shrugged. “Women, men…”

Lexa’s skin ran cold and nervous at the conversation Lincoln was moving towards. She tried to catch Costia’s reaction without actually looking at her. Costia had chosen that moment to let Dela’s second leg down, which gave her a perfect excuse to turn away. It could have been a coincidence. Lexa couldn’t know.

Patux was examining Lincoln from her seat on the ground next to Dela. “I don’t know, Lincoln. For all your skepticism, I think you’d get along fine where we come from. You talk a lot. You always want your feelings to be clear to the people you care about, and you want to know how they feel. Love and respect go together for you.” She turned to gain a second opinion. “How do you two think Lincoln would fare as Floukru?”

Dela’s mischievous grin gave away her thoughts. Aloud she answered, “I think he’d grow accustomed to us as soon as he realized that he didn't have to take care of someone’s every little need, and he had multiple people taking care of him too.” 

Costia smiled but answered more seriously. “I think he’d like the size of Floukru communities.”

Sylva shook his head. “They’re so complicated, though.”

Dela shrugged. “It's not complicated if it's your life. We just have big families.”

“Lonwodakru have big families too, except usually they have a younger average age.”

“Brothers and sisters are good,” Costia said diplomatically. “That is one thing I wish. I had friends, obviously,” she glanced at Patux, “and a half-brother from my father, but I was the only child in my house.”

Patux scowled. “You forget me. I slept at your house at least half the time for years when we were growing up. We gave each other our first tattoos by candlelight in your bed. We played tricks on your mom.”

Costia shook her head. “I'm not forgetting you. It's not the same.”

“If you say so. I call you sister.”

Costia smiled softly. “As I do you.” A pleasant lull descended upon the conversation as they each sat with their thoughts.

Gustus and DePol brought the murmurs of multiple low conversations around the fire to a halt by standing. Gustus turned from the circle and headed towards the cots they had set up in the shelter of a tall, sturdy-looking brick wall. DePol addressed the group, looking around as if he hadn't meant to interrupt anything. “Apologies. Continue. Us wiser ones are imagining the dawn and hoping for a full night’s sleep before it comes.”

Dela scowled. “Well you wiser ones don’t have to keep watch, huh.”

Costia laughed. “Not his fault you’re the brawn of this fellowship.” Dela made a face. “Oh come on! We’re trading nights. You’re no martyr.” Dela ceeded the argument and leaned towards Patux. Costia looked back to DePol, who had gathered his cloak as they fought. “I’ll take your wisdom, actually, DePol.” She sighed and rose to her feet. “Good night, you two. Reshop, Lincoln, Sylva, Heda…” Lexa watched Costia carefully keep eye contact with her no longer than she had with Lincoln or Sylva, and turn without looking back. She watched her walk away at DePol’s side hoping for a backward glance, but none came, and she shifted her gaze quickly to the fire when she realized it wasn’t coming.

Lexa let her gaze unfocus into the fire as the other conversations slowed and yawns infiltrated the murmurs. No one tried to strike up conversation with her. Even Lincoln, immediately to her left, let her be until he left for bed with just a soft shoulder squeeze as goodnight.

Slowly, groups and pairs stood and crossed away from the fire until only Sylva and Patux remained as the first watch. Lexa sat still with her eyes closed, back straight, concentrating on her breathing and listening to the crackling fire become relatively louder as the silence of the night crept closer to their diminishing group.

At some point Lexa opened her eyes. Patux quickly registered the change but didn’t interrupt the quiet conversation she was having with Sylva in whispers.

Lexa looked up at the stars, searching for the feeling of home in their familiar positions. The moon had moved higher into the sky from the treetops where it was resting last Lexa had seen. One tiny point of light moved slowly across the sky. Lexa watched it with the kind of insatiable curiosity and awe that is reserved for the unknowable.

When it finally dipped past the horizon line of treetops, Lexa stood and moved a third of the way around the fire, away from Patux and Sylva, and sat cross-legged with her back against a log. She rolled her shoulder and neck a few times to ease the tightness there, and straightened her back. Her eyes closed again almost of their own accord and air expanded her chest slowly. She let the breath out after a moment and took another, focusing on the muscles at the base of her ribs controlling her breathing. Once she established a rhythm, her focus shifted downward to the muscles of her abdomen - recently ripped through violently, recently rebuilt. The still-healing wounds were now part of her body, rapidly shrinking as new flesh stitched itself together underneath the scabs of blistered skin. She wondered at that.

Moving lower, her thighs ached from the long day riding. She imagined the stretch Costia had given Patux and Dela, and pictured Costia leaning pressure forward slowly, her hand wrapped around her ankle, her heel pressing into the muscles of Costia’s stomach, her calf against Costia’s thigh-

The rhythm of her breathing broke. She listened to see if Sylva or Patux had noticed. If they had it wasn’t apparent. They were still talking softly. Lexa didn’t listen really and kept her eyes closed and tried to return to her state of focus, but it wasn’t coming as easy as it usually did. She finally gave up and just tried to relax her body as best she could. 

Lexa tuned back in and opening her eyes slightly when she heard Sylva ask Patux who she had left at home to come to Tondisi, and Patux listed more people than either of them were expecting in answer. Lexa watched their interaction without moving.

“How do you keep track of that?”

“Depends on the person. Sometimes there’s nothing to keep track of. Sometimes we have long conversations about it. Sometimes it works out how it works out, day by day. We have to ask for what we need, sometimes.”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Making a lifelong vow sounds like a lot of work to me.”

“It’s not always lifelong, though.”

“Well it doesn’t always work, right?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Obviously.”

At Sylva’s expression, Lexa cut into the conversation. “That’s unnecessary.” Patux and Sylva both spun their heads slightly to look at Lexa, surprised that she had been listening. Sylva recovered first.

“When it does work, it’s legendary.”

Patux turned back to her, slightly apologetic, and admitted, “I’m sure it is.”

After the moment of significant agreement passed, Sylva breathed deep and asked with a furrowed brow, “What about kids?”

Patux tossed a stick she’d been ripping to shreds into the fire before replying. “What about them?”

“Who is responsible for them, without a typical family structure?”

“Depends. Usually the kid’s parents, primarily. Sometimes one is more interested than the other. I personally grew up with Timin, first; then Costia’s mother, then Timin’s mother, my grandmother.”

“And you were happy? Taken care of?”

“I was so taken care of, some days I felt over-taken care of.” Patux thought for a second, and continued. “I was lucky, maybe. I knew kids who weren’t, and maybe it’s easier to feel resentful as a parent if you aren’t necessarily expecting to be the primary caregiver, but you end up being one by circumstance.”

“Maybe. But imagine that plus you feel pressure to make a loveless partnership work.” The tone in Sylva’s voice had shifted, and she looked self-consciously at Patux and Lexa who were watching her with concern. “Sorry. My parents. It wasn’t terrible, and they did love me, but… sometimes it was hard, and I thought they should have just given up being together.”

Patux placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry.” Sylva almost brushed off the sentiment.

“I think any system just works for some people and doesn’t for others, and it doesn’t really say that much about the people themselves if they end up in a system that doesn’t work for them. My parents were dealing with that the best they could.”

Patux nodded and turned to watch the flames flicker across the embers of their fuel.

The conversation lulled for so long that Lexa began to consider leaving. Lethargy was settling into her bones.

Sylva sniffed and stood. “I’m going to do a quick perimeter check, if you’re ok here?”

Patux gave a quick nod. “Sure.”

Lexa watched Sylva walk into the darkness. Patux didn’t; she reached for a stick and pushed the embers of the fire around, sending bursts of sparks and briefly glowing ash adrift into the atmosphere.

Once Sylva was out of earshot, Lexa spoke softly. “Thank you for coming to Tondisi.” Patux looked up from the fire pit with a questioning expression. “You left a lot behind, a good life, for a fight that wasn’t affecting you. I appreciate that. Of all the clans, Floukru had the least reason to get involved, but you came out in force, and we could not have accomplished what we did without you.” Patux nodded but didn’t say anything, as if she knew Lexa had something else to say. “Especially since each of you left behind so much.”

Patux regarded her with a thought stuck in her throat before swallowing it and answering. “I left behind a lot of people, but to be honest I came because there is one person in the world I would never leave behind, and she came.” She broke Lexa’s gaze. “I would follow Costia to death and back.”

Lexa was slightly taken aback by the admission. She let her face show her surprise. “And would she do the same for you?”

Patux considered it. “Not in the same way.”

Lexa’s stomach dropped. Costia’s will must have been made of steel to resist a love so strong. “I’m sorry.”

Patux reassured her quickly. “Don’t misunderstand. I mean it when I call her my sister. She’s three years younger than me, did you know that?” Lexa shook her head. “It doesn’t mean much now, but when we were little… Well. She’s so clever, you know? She's so quick. Even when she was very young she just picked everything up. It came easy for her. And her mother insisted she be pushed forward in everything because she would start to cause trouble when she got bored. She used to be a terror when she wasn’t given something to focus on. I didn’t know that then, though. By the time she caught up with Dela and I, we were resentful and I was so mean to her. I mean, everyone doted on her and let her off easy when she made mistakes. She was the prize child of the village, niece of our queen, and talented and smart. She was competition. And I was really cruel to her, some days. I knew the adults wouldn’t accept it so I was sneaky.” Patux tilted her head remembering. “I was most jealous of her relationship with my father. He loved her and I did not like that. I would try to find ways to intimidate her into leaving his lessons early, or not coming. She kept coming. She wouldn’t leave, so I got crueler. She lied so much for me. I never understood that. Point of pride, I guess - couldn’t let anyone know how I could sneak up on her or outwit her. I was so proud, and so, so mean…”

Lexa raised an eyebrow. Patux noticed and leaned away defensively. “Kids can be cruel! Adults put value in advancement, and-”

“I know about the cruelty of children, Patux.”

Patux relaxed when she considered Lexa’s past. “Of course you do.”

Lexa waited, but Patux seemed to have forgotten she’d been going somewhere with her story. “So go on…” she prompted.

“Oh! Well. One day a bunch of us were swimming. All the sudden Costia came sprinting out of the forest. This raging two-faced buck was chasing her, and so she just dove into the water with us. It was confusing because she could have killed it. She was small but she had knives with her always and she could have hit it. Even when she was that young she was an impressively accurate thrower. She should have killed it. But she ran instead. And she led it to us - without concern for the danger it would put us in, as far as I could tell. That water was full of all my friends, the people I loved. So I spun on her and pushed her towards the shore and she didn’t fight back, she stumbled and fell into shallow water. But caught between me and this animal, she turned her back on the animal and looked up at me and told me to wait. I think I was so shocked that she let me push her towards the thing she’d just been fleeing that I did wait. I paused just for long enough to realize that the buck had stopped and was no danger to us. It paced on the shore a few times, back and forth, its sides heaving with the chase, shaking its antlers in anger - tall and terrifying, you know? We all were quiet and watched it. And then it left. Costia apologized for scaring us. She said she couldn’t kill it because it would have been a waste. She said that, still sitting at the edge of the river where I had pushed her down. We all just looked down at her, thinking, stupid. Soft. Naive.”

Patux paused and leaned forward with a stick to send another spray of sparks into the air. “I left her alone after that though. I couldn’t hate her anymore. I couldn’t look her in the eyes without remembering that she would choose to forsake all her skills to save the life of something that was threatening hers, because… it was fair, I suppose?”

 _Her sense of justice will kill her_ , Lexa thought, and Gustus’ concerns flashed in her mind.

“At some point I realized I had started watching out for her. I still wasn’t nice to her, but I didn’t let anyone else pick on her either.” Patux smiled a little. “Timin let her hang around, too, so we didn’t have much choice but to be civil.”

She turned suddenly and looked Lexa in the eyes. “She is soft. And naive. But she’s not stupid. Luna and her mother taught her justice first. They taught her to see things like a leader, like someone who needs to make fair decisions and see the world through her people’s eyes. She knows how to weigh everything and understand the reason behind ten sides of an argument. Even when it means she runs from a huge animal instead of simply putting a knife into its eye.”

They sat quietly for a minute. Lexa let the new imagines spin around her mind: a young Costia running through Floukru lands being chased, then being trapped between an angry wild animal and a scared young Patux; young Patux watching young Costia skeptically, the two of them growing on each other; years later cutting tattoos into each other’s still young skin; keeping secrets from their parents together.

Lexa’s original curiosity came back to her, and before she thought about it enought to lose the courage, she asked Patux, “If not you, was there anyone else Costia left behind to come to Tondisi? And here?”

Patux raised an eyebrow but answered quickly, “That’s hers to tell. But I will tell you it doesn’t change your chances.”

Lexa pursed her lips and didn’t say anything. What Patux said was true, but she still wanted to know. Even if it wasn’t a competition, even if it didn’t change their relationship, Lexa wanted to know who Costia was tied to. She knew about her family - her mother, a mystery, and Luna, who was much less of a mystery. She knew two of her close friends, one of whom should perhaps be in the family catagory. Those things were important. Romantic relationships seemed similarly important.

She heard Patux take a deep breath and looked over at her. “Costia loves deeply, Heda, but she is straightforward and lets logic rule her. She protects her heart.” There was nothing Lexa could relate to more, but she didn’t understand Patux’s point. “I get the feeling you are the same way, so I’ll tell you: if you want to win her trust, or whatever it is you’re after, you have to find a way to beat the logic that’s telling her it’s a bad idea to be with you.” 

Lexa let a breath out fast in lieu of the resigned laugh that would surely have woken someone. “The logic is right, though.” Patux rolled her eyes. “And this is terrible timing.”

“Think about your life. When isn’t the timing terrible?” Patux grinned at Lexa’s deadpan response. “Even in my life the timing never feels right. Do you know how to fight for the life you want?”

The question hit Lexa harder than Patux could know. Wanting required imagining - something she had never been encouraged to do as a potential Heda, and then as Heda. Tradition and ritual and the probability of death were too ingrained in her training for any fantasies of the future she might have had. “Wanting _life_ has never been...” As soon as the half-sentence was out she wished she had kept it internalized, and her eyes flashed to Patux’s. She found no malice there though, only understanding and sadness and a badly hidden spark of pity.

Patux offered a comforting smile. “Well, Heda,” she began, searching Lexa’s face, “I think you know one thing you want. So start there.” She turned away from Lexa to the darkness. “And stop distracting me from my watch trying to get into my friend’s pants.”

Lexa watched her back. The dying firelight made flickering shadows over the texture of her jacket, and Lexa let herself feel lulled by the slow movement of her breath underneath it. She blinked back exhaustion and stood.

“Good night, Patux.”

“Good night Heda. Don’t get lost on your way to bed, now.”

Before Lexa could stop herself, she shot back over her shoulder, “I better not be woken up at the end of your watch. Tight quarters.” She walked away without looking back, the smallest grin gracing the corners of her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here I love you


	8. Night Six on the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer. Getting more dangerous. Getting more fun.

On the second night, they settled into another ruined suburb. A roofless brick structure provided them shelter from strong winds. All night the air whistled around them. Partners on watch were frequently joined by those who couldn’t sleep for the sounds, which, to be fair, occasionally sounded like words in whispers.

On the third night it rained. 

They were deep in the woods. They were soaked and covered in mud. The early darkness and a convenient cave made them stop an hour early. Fire was difficult to build, but necessary to dry out their shoes and jackets. It took an extra hour to find dry wood. Finally, to end a period of frustration, Costia sent the ambassadors and most of the guard to rest in a fit of anger. She told Dela to stay and lit the pile of moist logs at the mouth of the cave with the tiny bit of dry kindling she’d scavenged from crevices in the rock. She ignored that Lexa and Ryken had ignored her outburst and were sitting nearby looking out at the rain. 

Once the fire was smoking and popping, Costia found a bucket, set it under a stream of rainwater flowing quickly off the edge of the roof of the cave. When it was full she pulled it inside and began scrubbing the mud from the pile of everyone’s boots. Dela took them, dripping and clean(ish), one by one, and placed them upside down around the fire. Costia finished the last pair, looked around, and noticed that Lexa’s boots were still on. Calmed slightly by the work, she finally spoke.

“Give me your shoes.”

Lexa hesitated but peeled her boots off and walked slowly to Costia. She handed them to her. Costia took them and scrubbed them carefully. Lexa searched subtly for any hint of how she should react to Costia’s behavior. She caught Dela’s eye. Dela shrugged and turned back to warming her hands by the fire, surrounded by glistening pairs of boots. Lexa watched Costia’s motions until she was done. She stopped, holding the boots as they dripped into the bucket, and let her head fall forward for a moment. She sighed. Lexa recognized the increasingly familiar uncertainty of action that Costia caused her. It wasn’t something she was used to. She was in general a decisive person, and standing still with her mouth slightly open and her hands clenching nervously at her sides was a new habit she already regretted.

Before Lexa could move, Costia stood suddenly and walked to the fire, laying Lexa’s boots among the others. She sat across the fire from Dela, who didn’t react to the movement. Lexa took a breath and followed Costia. She sat next to her, close, but not touching. Neither spoke.

After a while, the sounds of shuffling from farther in the cave died off. Ryken moved to sit next to Dela but kept his attention to the darkness outside. Dela turned and watched with him. As soon as both their attentions were elsewhere, Costia let out a breath and leaned against Lexa. 

The contact was like cool fire creeping along Lexa’s skin. They sat like that for a while, their breathing evening out until Lexa thought Costia might be asleep.

She quickly proved her awareness by straightening at the sound of soft footsteps behind them. Lexa missed the weight and her warmth immediately. It happened to be Patux, who hummed deep in her throat at Costia but made no comment, and tapped Ryken on the shoulder to relieve him of his watch. He stood and silently asked Lexa whether he should wait for her. Costia flashed her a small smile before she stood and followed him into the cave, trying to ignore the pounding in her chest and the twisting in her stomach.

By the fourth night, anyone who held Costia’s seizing of authority against her had forgiven her for it. The gray skies cleared around noon and their clothes were dried by the sun. The temperature dropped at twilight. Lincoln showed a few of them how to build hammocks between the trees. The rest slept in a field in circles with their feet close to the fire under the stars. Lexa stayed with Gustus, DePol, Ryken and Mercer in the field. She saw Costia off with Lincoln and did not join them.

She knew how to make a hammock. She was Trikru, after all.

On the fifth night they built three fires and slept close to each other. The north winds blew past them. They woke up shivering and huddled even closer, pulling their packs of clothes and supplies tight against their chests. No one bothered Patux and Dela when they discovered them spooned together in the cold light of predawn.

After six days, the group was growing travel-weary. They snapped at each other with some frequency. The horses stumbled more often, but no one wanted to ride anyway. Their only pacifier was the approaching Meidalkru village where they were planning to meet Breiken and the Ayelkru ambassador, Ash. They were all looking forward to a hot meal and real beds.

As the sun sunk below the horizon and shadows crept across their path, some of the group began to grumble about stopping. Lexa kicked her horse forward and trotted to meet the Lonwodakru guard leading them.

“How long are we going to continue?”

“Can we push a few more hours?”

“It will be long past dark. No one will be happy.”

“They will be if we make it to Hemlock tonight, which we can. Easily.”

Lexa considered it. Riding past twilight was risking attack in the dark, but reaching Meidalkru lands would be a welcome accomplishment. “Call a halt.”

The guard looked disappointed but held a single fist in the air. “Hod op!”

Lexa heard multiple sighs of relief as she spun her horse quickly to face the line of tired faces. “Listen. We have nearly reached Hemlock. We can get there tonight. Tonight - in just a few hours - we can have fresh food, and real beds. We need to push forward. I think I’m not alone in wanting anything but to sleep on the ground for one more night.”

The ambassadors and guard looked around at each other and nodded slowly. It wasn’t exactly enthusiasm, but it would do. Lexa turned and nodded to the guard who smiled a little and kicked her horse forward. They rode and walked for three more hours.

The moon was high when they met the first Meidalkru guards. Lexa wore her red cape for the first time since leaving Tondisi. Gustus and Ryken each held an ancient, shredded red banner strutted against their stirrups and flanked her. The ambassadors and guards formed a double line behind them. They were dirty and exhausted, but in formation they were a sight to see. Lexa knew it. She held her head high greeting the two young men decked in silver matte armor over leather and cotton. They bowed deeply in recognition and led her toward the center of Hemlock.

The sounds and smells of celebration drifted down the steep hill on top of which the town center sat. Lexa and her party followed the guards up a path that wound back and forth across its side. As they rounded the last bend, a crowd gathered around a bonfire turned and roared a welcome.

Houses were situated in rows of semicircles around the top of the hill. Across the clearing with the crowd and the bonfire, a building that was much longer and taller than the houses loomed. Lexa was led straight across the clearing towards this building. Lamps glowed inside and cast strange shadows on the curtained windows. When they arrived, past bowing crowds and shouts of excitement from adults and children alike, their horses were taken and they were led inside through tall wooden doors braced with iron. One of the guards bowed and didn’t enter. The other smiled at Lexa proudly and held his head high when he gestured her to follow. He looked familiar but in the half-light Lexa found it hard to place him. He couldn’t be much younger than she was. His eyes were bright and his cheeks were smooth. Only his chin showed the beginnings of rough stubble. She nodded at him in approval. His reaction reminded her why she loved being Heda.

He led her through the vestibule and through an archway of braided rods into a hall that spanned the entire building. Lexa couldn’t take in most of it. She looked around briefly, observed windows made of glass mostly shrouded in light curtains, stretching tall almost from the floor to the edge of a rare vaulted ceiling with iron rafters. Huge lanterns made of decoratively perforated sheet metal cast flickering light across the space. This building was unique. It appeared to have been constructed recently and not from the bones of something else. 

Lexa had never been to Hemlock, since the Meidalheda offered to become part of the coalition as part of a political deal. Lexa and she had only met in Polis, once, and she had quickly returned to her own lands after the initiation was complete. Lexa remembered her well, but the woman lounging in the twisted iron throne swirling a shining chalice of wine made a different image than she had painted for war, kneeling before Lexa and offering her arm to be burned in Polis Tower.

She smiled when Lexa’s eyes landed on her. “So you’ve finally made it to our halls, Heda Lexa kom Trikru. Welcome.” She stood and stepped off the rise of her throne and spread her arms wide. “Don’t stand in the door too long, friends, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Lexa stepped forward quickly. Her ambassadors and the guards were packed into the hall behind her and followed her forward, spreading out across the half of room they had entered, unsure how to proceed. The room was large and open and empty aside from the kruheda and her two personal guards. The young guard who had led them crossed the room and stood next to one of the older guards, his duty done. Without a guide, Lexa’s party were lost in the space. Lexa, however, put on a mask of confidence and strode straight ahead.

“Meidalheda, Claudagh. It is good to see you well.” They met in the middle of the room and grasped forearms.

“How are you, Heda?” Claudagh spoke quietly, leaning conspiratorially into Lexa’s space. “Tired, I imagine. Worry not. I will not have you paraded around. My people are honored to have you in our presence. I will have the festivities brought to a close very soon. News of your passing has excited them, but now that you have arrived they will all relax.”

Lexa frowned. “Why?”

“Azgeda have attacked half as much as they did since we joined the coalition. Our people have had a taste of peace these last few months. They see you as the most powerful leader in the world.”

Lexa frowned deeper. “...the world?”

From behind her, a voice spoke, “They see her as what she is, then.” Lexa turned her head to acknowledge the voice but she recognized it immediately as DePol’s. Claudagh looked across the room. Her smile widened.

“DePol? How long has it been?”

“Not long enough,” he shot back amicably with affection creasing the corners of his eyes. He stepped forward swaggeringly and stood just behind Lexa at her side.

“It is good to see you. Do you remember your way around Hemlock?”

“Mostly, yes.”

“I've cleared out a dormitory for you all on the North side of Hemlock, next to the healer’s building, just a short walk from here. You remember?”

“I do.”

Lexa cut in. “Thank you, Claudagh. We appreciate your hospitality.”

Claudagh nodded. “It is happily given. I hope you find everything to your liking. There is a kitchen in the building if you are hungry, and a meeting room for tomorrow. Ash kom Ayelkru has been there. I think she’s sleeping now. Breiken is spending tonight with her family. She’ll join you tomorrow. She is anxious to meet you, Heda, and excited to see those of you she knows.” Claudagh’s focus shifted to DePol, then to the group behind him and Lexa. Lexa turned to the group. Costia, Patux, Dela, and Sylva all had small grins. Costia looked around and then back at Lexa.

“Breiken does a bit of travelling,” she explained with a shrug.

“Tristan,” Claudagh called to the young guard who had led them in. Lexa instantly remembered why he was so familiar: he had been sent down to Tondisi with the small division that the Meidalkru could spare, and had sat at her table as their representative many times. His youth had surprised her at first, but he had quickly proved himself to be thoughtful and competent in or out of combat. They had sparred, once, at his bold request, during which she realized she liked his openness. His turn to represent Meidalkru at meals was always a breath of fresh air for her.

Tristan stepped forward and Claudagh gave him instructions to lead Lexa’s party out past the crowd of celebrating Meidalkru. He nodded quickly and looked to Lexa to follow him.

“Goodnight Claudagh. Thank you for your brevity. We will talk more tomorrow.” 

“Rest well, Heda.”

Lexa turned and followed Tristan out of the hall and past the revelers. When they reached a path near the edge of the clearing, he turned and addressed DePol.

“You know the way from here?” DePol nodded and Tristan handed him the torch he had carried from the hall. “I leave you here, then.”

DePol passed the boy and followed the path forward. Lexa paused as she passed him. “It is good to see you again, Tristan,” she said quietly and offered him a secret smile.

He grinned widely. “Spar with me tomorrow? I can show you our training grounds.”

She nodded. If it was possible, his grin grew. She walked past him and followed DePol towards food and sleep.

\---

The food was fresher than what they'd been eating the past few days. They devoured the fruit, vegetables, and warm bread that had been left for them and then scattered to claim beds. 

Ryken and Gustus had held three rooms on the East side of the building so that Lexa could stay between them. She didn't rush off with the mass; she had half a cup of wine still and was enjoying her seat and the muffled sounds of her people moving between rooms upstairs. She watched the breeze through an open window push a curtain back and forth gently.

Heavy boots clomped down the stairs quickly and Lincoln appeared in the kitchen’s wide entryway. He slowed when he saw Lexa.

“Heda.”

“Lincoln.”

“I was… water.” He gestured half heartedly with the cup he was holding at his side. Lexa shrugged nonchalantly and returned her gaze to the swaying curtain. Lincoln crossed the kitchen and filled his cup from a pitcher on the counter. Lexa heard him turn and pause and looked over at him. “Costia is waiting for you in your room. I think she had something to ask you before she went to sleep.”

Lexa’s brow knitted. “Thank you.” Lincoln nodded and left the kitchen. She heard him pad back up the stairs, more quietly than he had come down. She took a breath, wondering what Costia wanted, hoping the idea she thought she had of it wasn’t too far off, and downed the last few sips of wine before standing and walking slowly upstairs.

She pushed her door open. Costia was standing at the window in the dark room, looking out into the trees that surrounded them. She spun when she heard the door open and stepped forward. Lexa let the door close quietly behind her and walked halfway across the room. They both stood and waited for the other to say something. Costia spoke first, quickly.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

A pause, nervous. “Am I disturbing you?”

“Of course not. What do you need?” Lexa tried to keep the eagerness out of her voice. She envied Costia’s apparent ability to control her expressions and wondered not for the first time what it meant about her feelings. Typically Lexa was just as skilled at hiding her emotions. It had been part of her training.

“I wanted to thank you. For allowing my authority a few nights ago. I should not have commanded your people the way I did.”

Lexa almost shrugged. She stopped herself. “It was necessary. Tension was building. My position sometimes prevents me from being able to break tension, and you could. I wish I had asked you to do it.”

Costia nodded. “Also, if I overstepped any boundaries that night, I apologize.”

“You didn't.”

“I feel comfortable with you.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I don't wish for your discomfort.”

Costia frowned. “I am trying to respect you.”

Lexa's insides twisted. “I appreciate that. But there isn’t anyone else here right now.”

Costia's shoulders visibly relaxed. “It's… been a long week.”

Lexa nodded and turned to sit on her bed. She offered the spot next to her. It mirrored the pattern they had begun and broken - or that she had broken, perhaps - in Tondisi. She knew Costia was also thinking of that by her hesitation. It was only a split second though before she decided to sit and walked over quietly, fighting the sounds of her footsteps. She sat gingerly. Lexa noticed the lack of contact and tried to forget noticing.

Costia fidgeted a few times before speaking. “I'm glad you decided to bring me on this mission.”

“Oh?”

“Spending time with Mercer and DePol has been enlightening. Mercer was telling me about his work with the prisons in Moungeda. Sounds important.”

Lexa’s optimism in Costia's beginning statement was dashed, but luckily she had moved to a subject she knew well. “Their prison system needs reform. Badly. He has made it infinitely better in the past few years, but it’s still in huge part a business that relies on an underlying acceptance of slave labor.”

“Nothing is harder than convincing people that they actually rely on something they disagree with.”

Lexa nodded and took a breath. “I'm glad you decided to join me.” Costia dipped her head shyly. It was enough to give Lexa a spark of courage to continue. “Your presence… Well, your presence rattles me most of the time, but I trust you. And I need people who I trust.”

“Do you not trust anyone you’ve brought here?”

“Of course I trust them.” Costia waited. “I trust you differently.”

Costia laughed nervously and rolled her eyes. When Lexa didn’t drop her gaze, she blinked and lay back onto the bed with her feet still dangling off the bed and looked at the ceiling. After a moment she closed her eyes. Soon Lexa’s eyes began to droop closed waiting for her to respond, and began to wonder if Costia had fallen asleep. 

Costia’s mumbling voice revealed the accuracy of Lexa’s guess. “Would it be terribly dangerous if I fell asleep here?”

“Who will miss you?”

“Patux and Dela.”

“Then I imagine it would not be very dangerous.”

Costia sighed and murmured, “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“Yes. We need to meet, now that all the ambassadors are together.”

Costia sleepily hummed in understanding and changed the subject. “This bed is heaven.”

“It’s very close.”

“I almost miss the sky though. Falling asleep under the stars is....”

“Grounding?” Lexa suggested.

“Invigorating.” Costia breathed out as she said it. Lexa turned to look at her. The moonlight reflected off her face and Lexa could see the calm settled across her features. She envied Costia a little in that moment and wondered hopefully whether it was something contagious, as if being around Costia enough might impart some wisdom about inner peace.

“You don’t see just stars, though.”

“No.”

“What do you see?”

“All the stories I’ve ever known, and those I’ve forgotten, and those gone untold. All the names of the dead who try to guide us. The connections we can’t explain. The distances we can’t perceive. The energy that makes us live.”

It was more than Lexa could delve into and something about the way Costia picked her words so carefully sent a flush up her neck, but she was curious. “What stories?”

“You want a story?” Costia asked, looking up at Lexa curiously.

“Yes.”

“Well. There are too many… what kind of story?”

“A love story,” Lexa answered too quickly, with the slight ending uptick of being unsure. Costia ignored it.

“Tragic ending or happy?”

“Surprise me.”

Costia pushed herself up on one elbow and tucked her feet onto the bed so she was lying on her side facing Lexa. Lexa lay back and tucked one arm behind her head to face Costia better. Once they had both resettled, very close to each other - which Lexa tried to ignore to save her heart from beating fractures into her sternum - Costia took a breath and began. 

“Once there was a singer of songs whose voice and whose music were so beautiful that he was considered the best in the world. He loved a woman, and one day she fell ill and died soon after, and in his grief he could not sing for three days.”

Lexa recognized the beginning of the story. She smiled internally at the familiarity and decided to take advantage of Costia’s pause. “That’s a terrible short and tragic story.”

Costia choked on her next word, but laughed and teased back, “That’s not the end. Death is not the end, Lexa.”

Lexa smiled. “Go on, then.”

“On the fourth day he woke up with a song in his throat. It was the saddest song in the world, and he sang it everywhere he wandered. He sang it until the forest spirits took pity on him and guided him to the Land of the Dead, where he sang it for the King of the Dead. He fell on his knees and begged the king to return his love to him. The king could not return the dead to the Land of the Living and imprisoned the singer for trespassing alive into the Land of the Dead. But the king’s wife heard his songs and his grief, and knew a way that he could have what he wanted. She released him, promising him that she would send his love after him. She warned him that he had to leave the Land of the Dead without looking back. His memory of the place would be erased. If he looked back, not only would he never see his love again, but he would be pulled back to the Land of the Dead without another chance of escape, ever.”

“But he couldn’t do it, could he?”

“That’s what most people say. My mother used to tell me a different version.”

“Different how?”

“Well. She said that this singer traveled seven days through the Land of Dead towards his life. He passed by others he had lost: his father, his mother, their parents and their parents, a few friends. And he sang a new song as he traveled. He sang a song of hope. All the people he knew who he passed leant him strength for the journey, and strength to keep singing his song. On the final day he had passed everyone he knew. He was alone. This was the space between the Land of the the Dead and the Land of the Living, and he had no guide and was not able to take any beaten path. This was the darkest part of the journey.”

Costia leaned forward a little and rested her head on her hand so that her face was almost above Lexa’s. She spoke the next part like it was something from a ghost story.

“He tried to hang onto the strength of his parents but he found the memory of their faces fading. He tried to keep singing but his voice was hoarse from the constant effort. He lost his song there and slowed his steps. Dark and Silence surrounded him.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and turned her face so it was square with Costia’s. “This doesn’t sound like it’s going to end differently than the version I know.”

Costia stole an inch more of the distance between them. “Patience,” she whispered.

Lexa pressed her lips together against the smile that threatened to break their teasing exchange. Costia took a breath and continued.

“In the silence, he heard one thing - it was an echo of his song, and it sounded like the voice of his love. That sound gave him the strength to take another step. He thought of her, and he thought of the world. He thought of the trees and the rivers. He thought of the sky. And as soon as he pictured those things they began to appear in shadows. The stars appeared in the sky. He looked up at them and followed them, and trusted that though the sounds he heard behind him were just like echoes, that he was walking in the right direction. He followed the shadows and the stars until he couldn’t walk any farther from exhaustion, and fell deeply asleep.”

Costia paused, but her voice had taken on a tone so calming that Lexa felt her eyes drooping. She couldn’t summon anything snarky to say.

“When he woke, the sun was rising. The stars were gone. The sky was bright. The light filtered through the trees and fell warm across his face…” Costia slowly moved her hand up as she spoke and ran her fingernails down Lexa’s cheek softly. Lexa let her eyes fall closed. “He blinked in the light…” She ran her thumb across Lexa’s eyebrow and down past her temple. “And then familiar lips met his…” She barely brushed her thumb across Lexa’s lower lip. “And he knew she was alive, and they were home.”

Lexa opened her eyes slowly and looked up at Costia, whose face was dangerously close to her own. Her eyes flicked back and forth, searching Costia’s for any sign that this was a joke, or that she was misreading something. But as soon as Lexa had gathered the courage to close the distance between their lips, Costia rolled away from her and shifted the elbow she was leaning on so her body wasn’t hovering so close next to Lexa’s. Lexa sucked in a disappointed breath.

She missed Costia swallowing her own sadness and confusion.

Lexa spoke quickly. “That’s a much better ending.” Costia smiled sadly.

“It was the only version my mother told me for a long time.”

Lexa reached out quickly, resting the back of her hand on Costia’s wrist. “Thank you.” Costia cocked her head to the side, asking for clarification. “For sharing.”

Costia smiled and seemed a little less sad. She shifted and laced her fingers through Lexa’s, glancing down nervously. “I’m glad you liked it.” Lexa watched her blink slowly and sigh.

“Sleep?” she suggested softly. Costia looked at her and nodded slowly. They sat up together. Lexa stood and shrugged off her outer layers down to her cotton underclothes. Costia scooted to far side of the head of the bed and rolled onto her back to pull her pants off, somehow gracefully. Lexa tugged the blankets down before sitting and climbing under them. They shifted around until they each found a comfortable position, careful not to touch each other. Lexa lay on her back and pressed her eyes closed.

She could tell that Costia was as not asleep as she was.

She was beginning to wonder how long a person could lie in a sinfully comfortable bed in the dark and not sleep when she heard Costia shifting slowly beside her. A hand traced lines across her forearm searching for her hand, and cautiously tangled their fingers together where Lexa was resting her hands on her stomach. Lexa squeezed back in consent and pulled Costia’s arm a little more securely across her middle.

Lexa lay there awake long after she heard Costia’s breathing even out.

She did, eventually, fall asleep.


	9. Hemlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I took a break for four months without warning. That's all. Here's the next chapter.

When the sun was high, everyone gathered in the meeting room in the traveller’s quarters. 

Claudagh entered the room followed by a man Lexa had never met. Their hands were laced together loosely and he wore a cord across his chest and over one shoulder that seemed to be made of gold. It matched the thin cable that Claudagh wore tied around her head as a crown. Lexa assumed he was Niall, Claudagh’s houmon.

As they entered the room, Claudagh let go of his hand. They sat next to each other in the circle of stools. As they settled, the conversations around the room wrapped up and an expectant hush fell over the circle. They looked around at each other and gradually landed on Lexa.

Emotion rushed through Lexa for a moment - partly pride in the group that was gathered, partly pride in herself, partly excited satisfaction, partly awe at her own power, partly hope. She let it fill her chest, then exhaled it slowly through her nose. Her face remained impassive.

“Thank you all for gathering here. Ash, Breiken - as you’ve just joined us, welcome.” Ash and Breiken both bowed slightly in acknowledgment. Lexa scanned the room.

“We approach the border of Azgeda territory. This presents new challenges, and a gaping hole in most of our experiences. Breiken is the only one of us going who has been to Treal, and I am the only one who has communicated with the Azgeda Queen. This is essentially the beginning of new political relationship.”

“Well,” Claudagh interrupted softly, “We have been at war as long as the history has been recorded, which I would not call a relationship but certainly means that this is not the beginning.”

“We need to think of it as a beginning, I think,” Costia suggested in a tone that indicated it was not really a suggestion. Claudagh nodded noncommittally. 

“That’s fine, but you can’t just trespass onto her land - and, make no mistake, that is how she will see it - and expect her to house you, feed you, treat you like a guest, and listen to your insults - again, that is how she will hear you - as you waste her time telling her how powerful you are and how you have a dream of peace, because all she will hear is a challenge. All she will hear is a request for proof that Azgeda is the most powerful clan. And she will prove it, probably by putting your head on a spike.”

Lexa felt Ryken shift defensively beside her. Gustus was markedly quiet, but she could hear his “told you so” as if he was shouting at her.

She thought briefly of the pride she had felt just moments ago, and sighed internally. No matter how good she was at damping that pride on her own, there would always be something or someone to humble her.

Niall interrupted then. “What about the prince?”

“The prince nearly lost his title the last time we negotiated with him. He won’t risk that again.”

“He is still powerful enough to get them a chance to say what they need to say. And he has many of the people’s support.”

“So, say he could do that. He’s practically locked in Treal. We can’t reach him.”

Niall gave her a significant look then. She looked confused for a second, but realized what Niall was suggesting and sucked a breath in while shaking her head quickly. “No. Niall, the girl is pregnant. You know what Nia would do to her if she learned who fathered the child.”

“Nia doesn't even have to know she's in Treal. It's just a message.”

The back and forth was no longer useful to Lexa, and while she had patience to let them continue, Gustus did not. He interrupted before Claudagh had a chance to respond. “Who are you talking about?”

Niall looked apologetically around the room. “Our proximity to Azgeda means that occasionally -”

“Very occasionally,” Claudagh emphasized.

“- yes, very occasionally, there are… dalliances… between those from the distant villages on the border of Meidalkru lands and Azgeda lands. One of these issues arose recently, the result of which is that we are currently protecting a pregnant Azgeda girl who knows her way around much of Azgeda territory, including Treal. The father of the child has also been there and knows his way around. The other thing, the important thing...” He slowed and waited for a nod from Claudagh before continuing. “They and the prince of Azgeda are personal friends.”

The room was quiet briefly.

Breiken was the first to break the silence. She did so rather unceremoniously. “How does Tristan get himself into these messes?”

Lexa’s mind was already whirling with the information, considering the possibilities of a connection to the Azgeda’s ruling family. Mention of the young man she knew and wanted to trust was one too many unexplained things.

“Wait,” she said, glancing slowly between Breiken and Claudagh. “How is Tristan involved in this?”

“He is the father,” Claudagh explained quickly.

“And choosing not to be ashamed of it, either,” Niall added, not masking the frustration from his tone.

Breiken, however quickly she had been to criticize Tristan, was the first to jump to his defense for Lexa’s sake, knowing she had no context for all the comments. “Well he comes from the edges of our territory, where to begin with there is very little support for the war. The borders out there were defined long ago and without much regard to communities that already existed. Tristan does not understand why he should consider his neighbor his enemy.”

Claudagh nodded. “I would love to put an end to it, renegotiate those borders with Nia, but she won't hear it. She won't give anyone ‘an opportunity to steal from her’.”

Lexa furrowed her brow and studied her hands. “So the point here is that Tristan and this Azgeda girl have the information we need, and the connection we need.”

DePol had been nodding along with her. “One of them could potentially, if we set it up properly, get a message that would convince Nia not to kill us on sight, at least.”

“Costia and I have been drafting something like that, a request,” Sylva offered.

Costia raised her eyebrows. “Though it sounds like we need more of a plea.”

Lexa shook her head quickly. “What you've written is right. We cannot sacrifice our conviction for her acquiescence.”

Claudagh was frowning. “Respectfully, that is not guaranteed or even likely to work, Heda.”

“Why not?”

“Because Nia does not negotiate!”

“She will hear me.”

Lexa had been looking down at her fingers resting gently on the table when she spoke, but her tone commanded the room. Claudagh blinked and kept her mouth shut. The room was silent and suddenly tense. Even Gustus, who increasingly had been showing signs of frustration, stood still and listened intently.

Lexa let her words hang in the air, let the strength of her determination reach everyone in the room. She breathed in and shifted her weight when she finally looked up, meeting the Meidalkru queen’s steel gaze with all the resilience of life in a radioactive world - the resilience of cancerous masses, two-headed animals, and fluorescent plants - the resilience of her home. And Claudagh softened, because that world, their earth, had been melting iron and steel since it was formed.

“Nia is not stupid,” Lexa explained quietly. “She will not kill me, and she will not kill my ambassadors. She will not take us prisoner and hold us ransom. We,” she paused, looking around at the group she had gathered, “have given our lives for this already. And if she does try to move violently against this gesture of peace…”

Claudagh heard the unasked question of loyalty and answered it. “Eight armies will be at her doorstep.”

Lexa nodded.

“So. Tristan…”

\---

Tristan was fun to spar with. He had clearly been given less instruction than Lexa had. He grew up with less resources than Lexa did. He was still quick on his feet, and once in awhile his lack of guidance produced necessary creativity that made Lexa stop to wonder whether there was a better way to do something than what she had been taught. He also was incredibly teachable, and took her advice with a better attitude than she had ever taken any advice, ever.

Their swords sang through the air, setting sunlight flashing off the steel. Lexa adjusted her grip quickly on the unfamiliar weight - doubted for a moment whether she had chosen well when Tristan brought her to their extensive armoury and offered to let her try any blade she wanted - but banished the distracting thought almost before it had fully formed and focused on parrying Tristan’s blows which were coming quick and light as he searched for an opening in her defense. She side stepped and let him back her up a little, hoping he would tire himself out enough to pause the onslaught.

They were both already tired. They were losing the light. Their time was almost up. They pushed each other harder.

Tristan finally broke his rhythm. He tried three final cuts, in which Lexa could feel his desperation, and then a thrust which she saw coming and sidestepped easily, spinning around him and tapping him on the opposite shoulder with the flat of her blade. He dodged too late and spun to face her with a frustrated smile and his sword relaxed at his side.

“She’s not done, Tristan! Keep your sword up!” He and Lexa both glanced to the edge of the sparring circle where the voice had come from. Costia was leaning against the fence comfortably, watching them and chewing on a carrot like she was just watching a kids’ game for fun.

Lexa whipped her focus back to Tristan, cursing herself for the extra half second she knew she’d been distracted. He stepped left; she stepped right. They circled each other slowly.

Suddenly, Tristan stepped back just long enough to switch his grip on his sword to something like a dagger. It was a method of swordplay Lexa had seen Azgeda warriors employ once or twice, but not one that she had much practice in and it threw her off slightly. She no longer felt confident in her ability to predict his next move; she’d have to think twice about what his weight shifts meant.

But the second it took him to swing his sword around for the new position gave her the advantage of attacking, and she cut high towards him, knowing those were harder blows to parry with his new grip.

“You’re leaving your left totally open, Tris! Cover yourself, keep that sword up!”

Tristan made a strained face and adjusted his defense. Lexa’s next blow to his right got significantly less close than it would have, and Lexa almost lost her momentum when their swords met sooner than she’d anticipated.

“Whose side are you on?” she shouted at Costia over her shoulder. She heard Costia laugh.

“I’m a sucker for an underdog,” she called back as their swords clanged together. “I can just imagine: Young Meidalkru Warrior puts Mighty Heda of the United Clans on her ass on sparring grounds.” Lexa and Tristan disengaged briefly, panting. “No one would even believe it.”

Their next engagement ended with their swords crossed and locked at the hilt. They breathed heavily into each other’s faces, trying to stare each other down. Lexa tried pushing him off every way she could, but no direction was useful. An idea occurred to her, though, and she shoved him back and spun her sword into her left hand.

She threw a few blows she intended him to parry, and then lunged forward to lock their swords again. This time, though, with the opposite angle, Lexa quickly twisted her hilt and sent his sword spinning upward out of his hand. She watched it clear her body and land halfway between herself and Costia. Tristan fell forward and caught himself on his hands and knees at her feet. She rested her blade on his shoulder.

Tristan looked up at her. “Show off,” he whispered.

“You’re the one with the fancy grip,” she shot back, stepping back and offering him a hand up.

“I actually came to find you two to tell you that everyone is gathering at the main hall for dinner,” Costia said, and pushed herself off the fence she’d been leaning against.

Tristan brushed himself off and held a hand out. “I can return the swords,” he said. “You two go ahead. I’ll see you there.”

“Thank you, Tristan,” Lexa said, handing him her sword. He flashed a grin.

“Thanks for sparring. It’s funner with someone who’s better than me, for once,” he said over his shoulder, embracing the cockiness of his statement. Lexa laughed and watched him hurry towards the armoury. She looked over at Costia, who was watching her oddly.

“What?”

“Nothing. Come on, or they’ll be waiting for you.” Costia beckoned and Lexa tapped the dirt off the bottoms of her boots quickly as she exited the circle. She had to jog a few steps to catch up with Costia.

“He doesn’t seem stupid,” Costia muttered.

Lexa agreed quietly. “He’s not.”

“Wasn’t very smart to knock up the daughter of the enemy, though.”

“They say love is blind…”

“They’re right. And you need people who can function despite their emotions.”

“He is still growing, Costia. But he has information we need. He could change the outcome of this mission.” Lexa sighed. “I would be happy for you to tell me I have a choice in this situation. I would be happy to keep him out of danger.”

Costia shook her head. “Just know where the weakest link is, Heda, that is all I am trying to say. I’m not trying to dissuade you from bringing him. We spent all day discussing other possibilities; I assure you I was not withholding any ideas.” Costia glanced over and noticed Lexa’s clenched jaw, and the troubled line of her mouth. Softer, she continued, “He will know what you are asking when you ask it of him, and he will agree to it anyway.”

Lexa nodded, but was not comforted. They walked the rest of the way in silence.

As they approached the large dining hall, Costia glanced at Lexa and slowed. “Wait,” she said softly, looking around. Satisfied that they were mostly alone, Costia spoke softly, “It's great that you like to play in the dirt, but…” and reached up and brushed a line of dirt from Lexa’s jaw. 

Lexa froze at the contact in public. Costia didn’t seem to notice, intent on making sure she had gotten all the dirt off her skin. She nodded and stepped back when she was satisfied. She flashed a quick grin, now purposely ignoring Lexa’s stiff posture. 

“Hungry? Let’s forget this for an hour, eh?”

When Lexa didn’t respond, Costia turned and walked towards the hall on her own, trusting that she would follow.

\---

Meidalkru food was good - rich. There was turkey and mashed corn with candied pecans and lots of potatoes. And then there was a sweet warm pumpkin mash with cinnamon and nutmeg.

And there was lots of mead. An old recipe, Claudagh said. A tradition.

That mead was precisely how Lexa found herself at the center of a long table in the dining hall, surrounded by her ambassadors, Claudagh on one side of her and DePol on the other, hearing herself admitting that she felt her personal failing was the number of stories she knew well enough to recite, and that she had recently been reminded of this weakness by a particularly good telling of the myth of Orpheus.

Patux recoiled and sucked air in through her teeth as she turned to Costia. “You didn't tell her that sappy version your mother loves, did you?”

Costia tipped her chin up defensively. “I did, actually.”

Patux clicked her tongue and shook her head and turned to Lexa. “I am so sorry, Heda, that you were subjected to these lies. If I may, let me tell you the more agreed upon version of this story-”

“First of all, all stories are part truth and part lie, more or less -” Costia interrupted.

“That depends on whether you are considering the facts when you say ‘truth’ and ‘lie,’ which is a little bit the point of the words -”

“- Secondly: This is by no means the most agreed upon, but it is Patux’s favorite.”

Lexa nodded. “So let’s hear it, then.”

Patux cleared her throat. “Orpheus was a summer child, his soul free, his heart wild. His life entwined with another of his kind, Eurydice.”

A few around quieted and turned to listen. Patux’s voice was strong and she spoke with the confidence of someone who fed off the energy of an audience.

“Eurydice loved like the rhythm of blood, and Orpheus like the rays of the sun...”

Dela cut in. Patux didn’t seem surprised, and nodded along to the rhythm of her voice. They started taking turns telling the story. “There was a third summer child, her hair full of flowers, her eyes bright and wide. She had come with the spring rain and said she would stay until the autumn winds came to blow her away.”

“Her name was Persephone and she shone like life itself which is untameable, and she had cut a deal with death a long time ago out of love for him, that she would return every time the autumn winds blow.”

“She loved Orpheus and she loved Eurydice. She loved the love they offered her freely.”

Lexa let herself fall into the rhythm of their words. They painted a picture of the winter when Persephone returned to the land of dead, and the heartbreak it caused in the lives of the summer children. They painted Eurydice’s journey to the underworld - not a tragic death as Lexa had always heard, but an intentional quest for the woman she had lost in the changing of the seasons. They painted her struggle with Hades for Persephone’s heart. They painted Orpheus following blindly, and finding the truth of Eurydice’s departure when he finally found her, and the deal Hades offered him to take away the girl who had stolen his wife’s heart. They painted Eurydice begging Orpheus to let her stay as he dragged her back to their life and his realization at the very last minute that they could never go back. Not really.

After the story was ended, Patux and Dela rolled right into what couldn’t be mistaken for anything but an epilogue.

“You cannot bargain with an untameable heart: that is the unchangeable part. When you find you're at the end you can’t return to the start, no matter how smart, no matter how stalwart and hard you work, once you break you're broke.”

“You can fight the night with light…”

“...the day with shade…”

“...the rain with a roof..”

“...but you can't fight the truth-”

“Especially when the truth is a girl in love.”

\---

Feeling slightly loosened by the strength of Meidalkru wine, Lexa openly watched Costia and Breiken chat with Tristan across the room. Costia’s smile was blinding as she laughed at his expressive gestures, and she glanced at Breiken subtly, who just rolled her eyes and shrugged as if to say that's just how he is.

Lexa could feel Patux’s eyes boring into her from across the table. When she'd had enough of the girl staring into her without saying anything, she turned to her unamused.

Patux leaned forward at the acknowledgment.

“If she ends up in her own bed tonight, I will question your ability to understand my people.”

Lexa blinked and tilted up her chin to look down at Patux, unsure if it was a joke or a threat, and how she should take it either way. Before she could decide Patux stood and walked away.

\---

Lexa decided not to think about how or why Costia had ended up in her bed again. The conversation flowed. They were easy with each other. There was no reason to question it tonight. A comfortable lull had descended, and Lexa let her eyes drift closed. It was dark. Since the only thing she had to look at was Costia’s face bathed in moonlight, she decided that without conversation it was safer not to just look at that. Her breathing had begun to slow when Costia mumbled into her pillow.

“Tristan was telling me about this girl.”

“Oh yeah?”

“They grew up together, far from here, and they both had always wanted to move to Treal to study at the Hall of Books. They knew that technically Tristan would not be welcome there so they told everyone that Tristan was coming here to Hemlock to join the Meidalkru army, and when they got to Treal they told everyone that he was Azgeda. They gave him some fake scars. It worked. And then they met Roan, and they became very close with him, and at some point they told Roan the truth, so Tristan has great trust in Roan. It was all fine until they visited home after a few months - Tristan’s hometown all thought that Tristan was dead because they heard that he never made it to Hemlock. So he had to explain.”

Lexa nodded, impressed that the ruse had worked at all.

“They thought they might never see each other when he was forced to come here and join the army. But he went to Tondisi to help save the Reapers, and when he came back she was in Hemlock distraught and begging for refuge that Claudagh wouldn't give unless Tristan confirmed her claims. He did, obviously, and has been slightly resentful of the Claudagh for the weeks she waited here without a promise of safety.”

“That makes sense, but he has to know the political implications of what the girl was asking for. Claudagh did the smart thing.”

“He knows. He feels how he feels. His loyalty to her has not waived, he assured me.” Costia broke eye contact with Lexa before continuing. “He thinks the world of you, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's personal for him that you want to bring Azgeda into the coalition. Besides the fact that he has lots of Azgeda friends from his childhood, this coalition could save his child from ever having to choose between its parents, or deny half the blood that runs through its veins. He sees you as some kind of… Well I can just tell, the way he looks at you. He believes in you. In us. In this mission.”

Lexa was decidedly frowning by the time Costia finished.

“What’s wrong?” Costia asked, laying a hand on her shoulder softly.

Lexa sighed, trying to ignore the warmth the contact caused. “He’s so young. I should not ask him to do this.”

“We are all young. We are making a new world for ourselves. He’s going to be a father - I guarantee you he’s doing this for that child.”

“This whole idea of making peace with them goes against everything I’ve ever been taught about leading. He might be - we all might be doing this for nothing. And then what is there?”

“Well you were taught to lead by people who don’t think twice about sending warriors off to die so they can call themself king of a hill.”

“No, I know. I mean - I can’t fail. I have to prove that point, that there’s more to life than that. If I fail, that’s all there is.”

“Being king of the hill?”

“By any means necessary. Yes.”

“You won’t fail,” Costia stated plainly. She pulled her hand back and rested on one elbow, leaning away to look at Lexa like she was finished arguing.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“Yes I can. Know why?” Lexa shook her head. “Because you brought the most charming talker ever born on land or sea. You can’t fail if you’ve got her.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow skeptically and almost smiled. “I’ve ‘got’ her?”

Costia nodded, relaxing her cocky smile into something gentler and more sincere. “You’ve got me.”

Lexa searched Costia’s face for meaning. She knew her face wasn’t giving Costia a clue about the battle raging between her instincts and the lessons that had kept her alive to this point. And then a thought occurred to her. She thinks I can’t hear what she’s not saying.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Costia raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise, almost fear. She was confused. “No. I-”

Something snapped in Lexa’s mind. A decision was made, like when she was fighting an opponent and had to react without thinking, because any amount of thought was hesitation. But it was also different than that, because there was something about muscle memory in that, and what Lexa did next was not something her muscles were used to doing.

She tilted her head slightly, glanced down at Costia’s lips moving in the middle of whatever excuse Lexa couldn’t predict, and leaned forward quickly. She felt the tip of her nose hit the side of Costia’s gently. She stopped and breathed. 

And then Costia’s lips were against hers, and there was no way to erase this.

This contact was very different from the vibration of a sword moving up through her arm, but not less jarring.

Costia’s kiss was soft and fierce and committed and gentle and rhythmic and kind of like talking but more like the way they made eye contact across a crowded room.

Lexa didn’t know how long it lasted. Years later she couldn’t remember exactly how it happened or how much she opened her mouth and how many times they pulled back just so they could start again. But she remembered the moment when they slowed, when she pulled back slowly, resting her forehead against Costia’s and wondering how Costia had wrapped her arms around her without her noticing, and how her hands had ended up balled into fists grabbing the front of Costia’s shirt as if her life depended on it. She remembered feeling Costia breathe out quickly and opened her eyes slightly, too curious not to see her expression. Costia was grinning, her eyes still closed.

“I don’t want to talk about the mission anymore tonight,” Lexa admitted in a whisper. Costia’s eyes slid open. She nodded, still beaming.

“Me neither.”

Costia leaned forward slowly. Lexa knew she was waiting for a sign to stop. She never gave one. So Costia pressed her lips softly against Lexa’s once more and kissed her lazily, biting Lexa’s bottom lip softly a few times and sucking on it and finally running her tongue across it. Lexa thought she might melt. She didn’t, though, and the kisses got lazier and lazier until their breaths evened out and they paused between kisses longer and longer, and at some point Costia ran her fingers up Lexa’s neck into her hair and started rubbing her scalp in a way that made her eyelids so heavy, and made it easy for Costia to pull Lexa forward and down towards her neck so that when they finally fell asleep, Lexa was curled securely into Costia’s embrace.


	10. Tristan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV swap

The moon was high above Treal. Guards stood at the top of a tall curved gate, watching the woods for anything irregular. They were vaguely bored but held back from entertaining each other with gossip or jokes; they knew the price if they missed something dangerous.

Below them, Tristan crouched under the cover of a low tree branch and watched back. He was trying to determine the identity of the guards. It was possible he knew them, but the moonlight wasn't bright enough or from the right direction to see their faces.

He ducked back from the edge of the woods and pulled a tin of thick clear adhesive from his pocket. He opened it and dipped his finger in to draw a thin line of the adhesive across his forehead arching over each eyebrow. He felt the lines begin to dry and twist his skin into what would resemble the scars of a scholar. It felt strangely familiar after so many months of not needing the marks. It felt like safety.

Tristan sat and breathed deeply as his scars cemented on his face. The way into Polis was easy but hidden, and he had to trust muscle memory that had gathered some dust. He walked himself through it in his mind.

He took one last look at the guards at the top of the wall and left his spot, following the wall’s curve at a distance that hid him from it. He quickly came to his destination and almost missed it: an old sewer lid, covered by knee-high ferns that grew up through the gravel of crumbling asphalt. Tristan walked past it, knowing he was about to go too far, tripped over a curb and immediately recognized where the sewer should be. He pushed the ferns to the side and heaved the lid halfway off the sewer entrance, careful not to push it all the way off. He peered down into familiar darkness. “Please don't let them be out tonight,” he whispered. 

For the first part of the journey this plea was heeded by whatever high power might have heard it: Tristan climbed down the ladder into the pipes, jogged straight, left, right, right, left (to avoid a part of the pipe that was caved in), then came to the junction with the main line. This line was better described as a tunnel than a pipe. Three people could walk abreast down it. Tristan lingered at the junction, absentmindedly pushing his hands up against the top of the pipe he was about to step out of. He looked left and right. It looked clear, but he knew how easy it was, if someone heard him before he heard them, to hide and spy. There were pipes shooting off both sides of the main line every fifty feet.

Tristan ground his teeth and stepped forward. He hurried along, staying close to the outside of the slightly curved tunnel. It was quiet for a long time. He recognized certain marks on the walls, faded graffiti and cracks in the cement. One of them - a red and blue logo of some organization long forgotten - meant that he was almost in the clear. His heart calmed its frantic pace.

It skipped a beat and double-timed when three voices bounced from the pipe that had just come into view around the curve of the tunnel. Tristan recoiled, backstepping frantically to hide himself. He ducked into a smaller pipe that shot off the main one and flattened himself against the wall. He forced his breathing to slow. The voices rounded the corner moments after he had hidden himself.

“...they said she’s coming here unprotected.”

“That has to be a lie. That would be incredibly stupid. And the Commander is not stupid.”

“They said they’d seen her with her convoy on the road not far from here. They said it was pathetic. They were barely armed.”

“They are. They’re concealing what they have. Definitely.”

By the time the voices were nearly upon him, Tristan had recognized both voices and a third set of less heavy footfalls. These were three smugglers, members of Black Ice. One of them happened to be the boy who had introduced Tristan to this way into (or out of, as it had been at the time) the city. Tristan closed his eyes and held his breath. It would be very bad if those boys saw him here, now. They were decidedly not friends anymore.

But they continued to quietly discuss the rumors as they passed, and didn’t stop as they passed their old friend pressed against the wall of the offshooting pipe. As their voices echoed frighteningly around him, Tristan opened his eyes to watch them miss him. Another pair of eyes was peering in towards him: the third person, Cohal.

He held her gaze, confused that she hadn't said anything. She wasn't a talkative person but she should've told the others. Tristan’s mind jumped to hope that she, of all the people he had lied to in Treal, might have forgiven, might wonder about his well being, might trust that if he was here, it was for a good reason.

“Don't you think we would have heard something? There's no way she's just…”

“She’s too smart to just come out and attack us now -”

“Cohal?” The footsteps shuffled to a halt.

She paused, staring blankly at Tristan. He did his best not to silently plead with her - he knew she would be disgusted by that. He almost imperceptibly squared his face with hers and twisted his mouth into the most determined frown he could muster.

“I just remembered something,” she said finally.

“Is it important?”

“No.” She broke Tristan's gaze and walked out of his line of vision.

The boys waited for her to catch up. Tristan let out his breathe slowly when he heard them pick up the paused conversation.

He waited for their voices to fade before rolling back into the main tunnelway and sprinting as silently as he could back the way he knew they had come. He didn't have time to wonder about Cohal, though the meeting had shaken him. He rushed down the straight pipe until he came to a ladder, which he climbed up, and found himself on a road he knew far too well.

\---

The Hall of Books was close to the city center, but the group of students Tristan had fallen in with for his half year there was involved with Treal’s ring of black market smugglers, known fondly as Black Ice. He had done runs for contraband goods through the crumbling network of sewers and underground tunnels, and took various routes through the city to arrive at the very place he was currently standing.

Tristan straighten his shirt as he stepped onto the main road and turned North. He swaggered down the side of the street like he'd grown up on it. It was the only way to walk down the street in Treal. And he knew that his scowl was enough to hide him from suspicion.

It wasn't long before he reached the inconspicuous door of the dorms for philosophy students at the Hall of Books. He wouldn't be using it though - the time was far past curfew. He turned his face away as he passed the window of the door guard, who might recognize him. Around the corner, in a narrow alleyway, a fire escape ladder clung to the side of the building, the lowest rung ten feet up. Tristan put one foot on each wall of the alley and shimmied himself up until he could reach the lowest rung. The window one the corner of the second floor was cracked open. He hooked one arm around the ladder and pushed the window farther open, avoiding the way it squeaked when twisted the wrong way. It opened without a sound and held. He quickly climbed up far enough to swing inside feet first, and slid the window back to its previous position behind him.

Tristan took a breath and rested his arms in the windowpane. It was a lie tonight, but this felt like reaching base - no longer in public after dark, no longer a target of the police searches or at risk of being recognized in the wrong place at the wrong time. This was his dorm. This was where he belonged. No one could question his presence here. He'd made it. 

The lie was over as soon as he looked around. So much was the same, but little things proved the passage of time - the rug shifted, different mugs on the table, and strange clothes draped across a chair. One wall that he remembered as having only a long mirror was now nearly covered in a collage of drawings, writing, and squares of decorative fabric. Tristan was immediately distracted, and approached the wall with curiosity as if this was still his bedroom. His gaze flitted from thing to thing, and he picked up a familiar small Meidalkru medallion hanging from a loop of twine on a nail driven deep into the wall. Tristan smiled sadly at the weight of it in his hand, that once had rested regularly on his chest.

“I was wondering when I’d see you again,” a deep voice muttered, still gravelly from sleep.

Tristan looked over his shoulder at the young man picking himself up on his bed. “How’d you know it was me?”

He stretched and grimaced, kicking blankets to the base of his bed. “Black Ice got here before you. You’re not as sneaky as you think. Luckily you don’t have as many enemies as you think.”

“Cohal?”

He nodded and stood. “It’s good to see you alive, Tristan.”

“Thanks to you,” Tristan replied stepping forward to grasp Roan’s wrist warmly before stepping back to let Roan cross to his desk. “It's good to see you too, Roan.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Hoping to begin a peace between our krus, bro.” Tristan pulled a carefully folded piece of paper from the inner chest pocket his jacket and held it out in front of him, his arm fully extended. It hung there. Roan looked down at it with one eyebrow arched sharply, then back up to Tristan’s face, then back at the folded paper. He hesitated, sighed, and took it quickly.

“You’re with the Commander.” Tristan nodded. Roan shook his head and unfolded the paper. His eyes scanned back and forth, his face revealing nothing as he moved down the page.

“My mother will never agree to this,” he said finally, running his thumb up the edge of the paper to flatten it.

“I need her to.”

“You need to convince the Commander not to wake a sleeping dragon. She has been mumbling about your girl’s Coalition for months now, and what she plans to do if she ever approached her as insultingly as she approached the other southern kru leaders…”

“There is nothing but flattery in that letter -”

“Coming from her? The fact that she think my mother cares about her opinion is an insult. You know what we think of the south.”

“I know what you think of everyone who isn't you.”

“Yeah - the south. They're below us for a reason.”

“Is this you talking or your mother?”

Roan scoffed. “It doesn't matter.”

“It does. If it's coming from her, then make this argument to her as yourself.” Tristan gestured at the letter. “Burn that, do not show it to her. Tell her she’s doing exactly what my Commander doesn't want. She will listen to you.” Tristan paused. “But if you really believe what you're saying, then I've wasted my time coming here.”

Roan’s frown deepened. “I have risked everything for you before.”

“And almost lost everything. You think I don't remember?”

“You better.”

“This is not for me. We have been through this - I know this about you. You do not want to inherit this nation as it is. At war, always.” Tristan waited for Roan’s eyes to meet his before continuing. “Make this nation the thing you dream of, Roan - where your people can dream, can live as they like, and others truly envy the freedom you offer.” Tristan almost smiled at Roan’s scowl, because it meant he was winning. “They’ll come suppliant to you, offer you their lives for a chance to share in what the Ice Nation can give them. You know you do not need to be at war to conquer others.” Tristan did grin then. “You’re smarter than that.”

Roan shifted and matched Tristan’s grin. “I’ll think about it.”

Tristan flashed a real smile, and nodded, and said seriously, “Thank you.”

“I’ll send news in two days. Tell your people to expect Cohal.”

\---

Getting out of Trial had been easy. Tristan knew that it would be, and carried himself less stiffly after he left Roan. By the time he was near camp, he was practically strolling, letting his mind wander back to Treal. Being in the city brought a flood of memories that put him in a strange, thoughtful mood. He pulled himself out of wondering how his favorite professor was when he realized how close to camp he had gotten. The watch would hear him soon, and he didn't want to approach without indicating who he was. Still, he was walking somewhat leisurely and almost missed the dark figure in the tree just down the hill from where he was walking. He only saw it out of the corner of his eye.

Tristan stopped in his tracks and looked closer. Through the trees, he could see the Commander sitting on the second or third branch of an old maple, leaning against the trunk, one leg stretched out in front of her, the other dangling down. His heart leapt at the sight of her, but he fought his instinct to rush to her and tell her everything he’d learned. She shouldn’t be out here so early and so alone. It was strange. Something might be wrong. But she seemed so calm…

Tristan jumped when soft voice cut through the trees. He turned towards it, and then back to the Commander. She seemed unphased.

“Lexa.”

“I’m here.” She sat forward and turned and swung both legs down off the branch. Another figure emerged from the shadows.

Costia? Tristan was confused. He felt torn between leaving for the sake this clearly being something secret and staying for the sake of his Commander’s safety. Costia wasn’t a danger as far as he knew, but this meeting didn’t make any sense to him. His curiosity and concern got the better of him.

It was hard to see their faces in the darkness, and once they were close to each other he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Maybe the Commander was smiling, and maybe Costia was telling her to come down from the tree. Costia was definitely reaching up and holding onto her shins from below. The Commander definitely kicked Costia lightly in the face - too lightly to have been anything but playful. Then the Commander jumped down to the ground with an impressive lack of sound, and they spoke closely for a minute.

Before Tristan understood what was happening, Costia leaned forward slowly and kissed the Commander. Tristan turned away quickly, embarrassed to have seen something he knew he shouldn't. But then he doubted he had seen what he’d seen, or thought maybe he misunderstood what he’d seen, so he turned back. He definitely hadn't been mistaken. Costia’s hands were resting on the Commander’s hips and guiding her backwards until she was leaning against the trunk of the old maple tree. Tristan blinked. He had seen flashes of her humanity before: when they sparred, she sweat; when she drank, she slowed; when she was insulted, her jaw clenched; when she was hit she bruised and bled. But he had never seen her need or want anything so intensely as she did now, pushing back against Costia like she couldn’t stand any space to be between them. 

And then something cold and sharp brushed his Adam’s apple and rested beneath his jaw. He felt his pulse jump. He froze.

A familiar male voice murmured into his ear, “What do you see?”

Tristan swallowed carefully. “Nothing. There’s nothing to see.” The blade didn’t leave his throat, but the pressure eased and the man stepped to Tristan’s side. “Lincoln…”

“Tristan.”

They stared at each other until Tristan blinked nervously. Unsure what Lincoln’s silence meant, Tristan tried to back away, but Lincoln pressed his knife forward and gave him a warning look.

“What do you want me to do, Lincoln? I wasn't spying. I was on my way back.”

“Did you deliver the message?”

“Of course. Not that it’s any of your business yet. I was supposed to report to her,” Tristan whispered, gesturing towards the Commander with his eyes. When Lincoln didn't respond to the annoyed response, he continued. “So what are you gonna do now that I saw something I shouldn't? Kill me for it?” Lincoln frowned in boredom as if he was considering it. “They wouldn't want that. They trust me. And it was accident.” Lincoln didn’t move. “They still need me, Lincoln!” Tristan urged in a more forceful whisper.

Lincoln paused before lowering his knife. “For now.”

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

“Making sure no accidents happen.”

Tristan frowned. “An accident like me?”

Lincoln nodded and glanced in the direction of his Commander. He shook his head. “You really can’t understand the importance of staying silent about this…”

“I knocked up the enemy, remember? Do you think I don’t wish that could have been a little less public? My child is going to be a constant target. I understand a little about politics and how people can be used.”

Lincoln turned back to him. If Tristan wasn’t mistaken, there was laughter in Lincoln’s stoic eyes. “Get back to camp, Tristan. I’ll see you in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> findthebrightplaces.tumblr.com - if you want to see what Clexa trash I really am


End file.
